”I was thinking chocolate waffles but if you want cereal, that’s easier than I am,” Hunter hums and takes another kiss before slipping down to kiss the belly, too, “and good morning to you gremlins.”

Pants be damned, he heads to the kitchen in the obscenely oversized shirt he wore to bed (for comfort sake).

“Once they’re born you owe me that last inch. It’s been a cold winter.” He calls back.