Once she'd shouted her goodbye's to the boys and Skyler took them to school, Cheyenne was quick about her business. Or quick as she could with her extra baggage, anyway, which wasn't quite as quick as she might like. By the time he returned Cheyenne was lounging in bed again, still not dressed, but the sultry pose she'd arranged herself in was ruined the second the scent of baked goods touched her nose. Cheyenne was, in general, a strict carnivore, but for some reason this pregnancy had her sweet tooth in overdrive. Either he'd noticed this (of course not), or just gotten lucky in selecting breakfast (yes, that suited her narrative better), but in the end, she was sitting up when he entered the bedroom instead of posing invitingly.
"Whatcha got there?" she asked with a twitching nose, adding after a moment, "G'on bring 'em here. Starvin' a pregnant woman ain't no way t'get laid, Davis."
She liked this. Cheyenne felt like she liked it too much, and as much as she wanted to blame it on the hormones? Once the pups arrived, she didn't think she would suddenly stop liking it. Her pack had all but been absorbed by now, either by the Davis pack or just the city in general, and it wasn't like she'd go hunting them all down and drag them back out to the trailer park by their hair. That wasn't what she was about - that had been Aitan's way.
Her boys were the happiest she'd ever seen them. She was even happy. Usually her pregnancies were frought with worry and skulking, seeking shelter with her mother (who she really needed to see more of, but maybe there was still a twinge of dented pride and shame for her situation preventing her from following through) and trying to find secret, safe places to whelp.
This wasn't even remotely like it had been with Rufus. Cheyenne had gone thoughtfully quiet as she snatched two muffins for herself, very much enjoying the taste.
"I reckon I see yer plan, Davis," she said, feeling very much like she needed to add a sharper edge to what was becoming a pleasantly soft moment, "Spoilin' me like a lapdog. Next I'll be gettin' my hair done up an' askin' t'go tah fancy dress parties on purpose. 'Fore I know it, I'll just want belly rubs on th'full moon instead a'wantin' tah hunt an' fuck," she wriggled a finger near her backside, "Maybe a lil' ol' ribbon on my tail so I look purty."