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“Did you just…” Words failed him, and he continued to gape in stunned shock.
“No way,” he finally murmured, shaking his head slowly. “You did not just pun me.”
“What?” I cringed and repeated his words. “Too corny?”
Bobbing his head slowly, he murmured, “Definitely too corny. It was so corny, in fact, it’s exactly something I would say. But could there be…?” Pressing an impassioned hand to his heart, he choked out a gasp before dramatically adding, “Another like me?”
I shook my head, loving his silliness.
Then he really threw me for a loop by tugging an arm around my waist and asking, “Is it too soon to propose yet?”
My eyes widened. “Um, yes. Definitely.”
“’Kay, I’ll wait until tomorrow, then.” And he eased up his grip on my waist just a fraction.
I laughed and shook my head. “I seriously cannot tell if you’re joking right now or not.”
“You know,” he answered, tipping his head just so, like a philosopher might do when thinking. “I can’t tell either. Let’s just roll with it for now.”
“Okay.” I was having too much fun to make him stop, anyway.
“We’ll have to do something about your name, though,” he told me.
My eyebrows shot up. Say what, now? “What’s wrong with my name?”
He wrinkled his eyebrows. “Really? Yellow Lowe? You don’t think anything’s wrong with that? People would always think they’re hearing an echo. They’d be like, ‘sorry, could you repeat that? I can’t seem to hear your full name over the damn acoustics in here.’ Yellow Lowe Low Lo...”
I shook my head slowly before dryly replying, “I guess I’ll just have to stick with Nicksen.”
“Hmm. Maybe,” he agreed vaguely before lifting his eyebrows. “Should I change my name to Nicksen, then, you think? Gracen Nicksen? Meh. No. Not a fan of that either. Ooh, what about hyphens? Yellow Nicksen-Lowe doesn’t sound half bad.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he nodded encouragingly to me. “Huh? Huh?”
Screwing up my mouth into a thoughtful pucker, I considered his suggestion, then said, “Gracen Nicksen-Lowe,” to test it aloud. “Hmm. No, that’s not too awful.”
“Totally doable,” he agreed. “Where did you get the name Yellow, anyway. I mean, that’s your legal name, too. I checked your records after you were hired. I just couldn’t handle not knowing. And it’s on the copy of your driver’s license.”
Wait, what?
“You checked my record? What a stalker!”
“Or just a normal, interested man who has an obsessive crush on you and breaks into your private information so he could learn everything he can about you and then follows you on all your errands. And sits outside your house some nights with a pair of binoculars, hoping you’ll—”
When I nudged him in the ribs, he chuckled. “What? Too far?”
“Um, yeah. Way too far.”
“Sorry.” He snuggled back against me and rested his face against mine. “I probably shouldn’t have snooped in your records. That was bad. I agree. And so was going through your drawers to find Mr. Green. I tend to run wild when uncontained like that, but I do respect boundaries when they’re presented to me, so make sure to put them up where you need them, and I’ll mind my manners, I swear.”
I stroked his hair and then kissed his forehead. “Deal.”
He sighed happily, letting me stroke him for about two seconds before his head popped up. “Seriously, though. Yellow? There’s got to be some kind of story behind that.”
“There is,” I mumbled on an irritated groan. “A really stupid one. My mom’s name is Violet, and my dad is Rusty.”
“Okay,” he murmured, his brow furrowing when that didn’t help him understand anything.
“So they’re both color names.” I rolled out my hand. “Apparently, according to them anyway, they wanted me to be named after a color too.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” he said, his eyes wide with disbelief. “And they chose Yellow? Out of all the colors out there? Yellow?”
