Grumpy Aftertaste

Grumpy Aftertaste A Billionaire Secret Baby Second Chance Romance Amanda Wilde Copyright Copyright © 2023 by Amanda Wilde All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Contents 1. Lola 2. Bennett 3. Lola 4. Bennett 5. Lola 6. Lola 7. Bennett 8. Lola 9. Lola 10. Bennett 11. Lola 12. Bennett 13. Lola 14. Bennett 15. Lola 16. Bennett 17. Lola 18. Lola 19. Bennett Also By Chapter one Lola An off-brand Fruit Loop flies by my shoulder and hits the wall behind my coffee machine as two giggles sound behind me. I continue to stir my coffee, allowing them to have their little moment of triumph before grabbing onto the whipped cream container and turning around. With two little sprays that don’t offer much out of them, squeals of surprise fill my years as my twin daughters, Evie and Evelyn, wipe at their cheeks. “Mommy!” They both exclaim almost in unison before I take a sip of my coffee. “What?” “You squirted us!” No shit. In between the constant things that float through my head because being a single mom wasn’t where I expected my life to be, I've been teaching my girls not to dish out what they can’t handle. They’re fast learners; I doubt I’ll see another fruit loop soar my way for a while. “Why would I spray you?” I solicit back through a challenge, which only makes them chuckle again. Little buttheads. It’s normally two against one when we’re alone, but when Zayne shows up, I’m outnumbered three to one and need to have my game face on at all times. I’ve accomplished many things by myself, and with the help of Zayne and my new best friend , Kennedy, whom I met when I moved over to New Orleans, I feel fully supported. Unfortunately, though, they’re not sitting on a couple of thousand to keep up with the bills and debt that accumulate every month. “Finish up your breakfast,” I quip. “Before your uncle gets here.” They’re both quick to pick up their plastic spoons and gobble up the rest of their cereal. I don’t bother getting on their case anymore about chilling out because they’ll be back to doing it the moment I turn my back, and I’ve done all the lessons of learning CPR and the Heimlich. Plus, they're three years old. I’m not going to fill our small rental house with eighty rules, but I will teach them how to act respectfully . To be humble and appreciative. They are why I bust my ass every day and threw myself through accelerated college courses to finish my degree. I’m exhausted all the time, but I can’t bring myself to regret the joy they bring to my life. I’m not the same girl before them; I’m different. More conscious of how my actions can cause consequences, and I’m more careful. “Where are my favorite girls?” Zayne’s voice asks, his voice filtering through my kitchen space as the girls squeal their excitement. I mean, I think they love him more than me. The only reason I keep him around is, well, I could’ve never survived without him, and he’s taken on the girls without question. He dropped his job and followed when I told him I was pregnant and moving. He’s kept us safe, and my best friend has done nothing but selflessly given up his time to be present in their lives while helping me finish school and work. Pivoting around, Zayne has Evie in a loose headlock as he ruffles up Evelyn’s dark, curly hair, always roughhousing with the girls as if they’re boys. “I just combed their hair, Zayne.” “And I know how to use a brush.” “Really?” I rise an eyebrow. “Because you look like you just rolled out of bed.” His hazels fly up to me. “That’s because I did. With a friend.” Oh. Right. Zayne still has time and no commitments while I’m chained down by two little princesses who turned out nothing like me but someone else. “Mmm, how did that go?” I ask before taking another small sip of my warm coffee. “Boring.” “Ow.” My face scrunches, though; I’d be lying if I said I felt bad for him. He’s the boy next door who could get it made up for somewhere else. “That sucks.” “That did too.” I smile through the innuendo of his failed blowjob and push off the counter's edge . “C’mon, girls. Mama has to leave for work.” “Bye, Mommy,” they both chant, but neither of them moves from their stools to wish me goodbye because Zayne is currently still standing between the two. As I said, they both are in love with him. I still come over to each of them and kiss the top of their heads, not getting a reaction from either of them. However, I don’t mind as much as a normal mother would. “I’ll be home before dinner,” I tell Zayne. “Johnny wants to give Marissa another go at the dinner rush.” Zayne frowns. “Does he want her to burn the whole restaurant down?” I shrug my shoulders because I’ve warned him before. “I guess he’s willing to sweat his insurance policy, so who am I to argue?” “Because you’ll be out of a job.” I rock my head back and forth. “Not for long. I have to finalize the plans for the renovations on my restaurant, and then I’m golden.” “Babe,”—Zayne steps closer to me and places both palms on each of my biceps—“you still have months until you open.” I bat my eyelashes and peer up at him innocently. “But you’ll take care of us, won’t you, baby daddy?” He rolls his eyes at me because he’s not my girls’ father; however, he still calls them his. “Go to work, pain in the ass.” “Where’s my kiss goodbye?” Zayne palms my forehead, pushing