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We lapse back into silence as he drives. After enough time passes for the flush to drain from my cheeks and irritation at Warren being pulled over for nothing, I remember Warren’s previous distraction and my curiosity.

“So, what’s been on your mind?”

“Huh? Oh, you know, stuff about the baby.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Warren shrugs and a grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “Names, cribs. If I should keep a go bag in my truck for when you go into labor just in case. That kind of stuff.”

I narrow my eyes at him because that isn’t all. “Nothing else?”

“Like what?” he chuckles.

“I don’t know. You were looking at those home listings pretty closely. You dismantled my car for unknown reasons. You have a jar of pickles in your glove box. You’re obviously thinking about more than just baby names. Which, by the way, I already have a short list of viable options.”

We turn down my street and stop at a red light. Warren turns to face me as we sit idle.

“And what would those be? Were you ever going to tell me the names and ask if I liked any of them?”

“I wasn’t originally intending to, but since you’ve decided to reinsert yourself into my life for the foreseeable future, I suppose I could.”

With a shake of his head Warren turns back to watch the streetlight. “Okay then, what are they?”

“Levi.”

“Pass.”

I pause at his stark rejection of one of my favorite name choices. Blinking at him in shock I almost don’t continue with my list for fear of more immediate rejections.

Warren makes ago ongesture with his hand as the light turns green and we continue down the road towards home.

“Okay…Sebastian.”

“Pass.”

“Benjamin.”

“Maybe”

“Axel.”

“Hell no.”

“How about Ace then?”

Warren tilts his head back and laughs out loud. I wasn’t being serious about Ace, but he was beginning to irritate me with his stubborn refusal to approve of a name.

“Ace would be a great nickname, especially if he turns out to be good at sports. What else you got?”

I huff out a breath, I do have one more name, my favorite. For a moment I hesitate because I would be really deflated if he doesn’t like my last choice.

“Noah,” I finally say quietly.

“Hm.”

Warren doesn’t bark out ‘pass’ or ‘hell no’ so that’s a good sign. I’m weirdly nervous to hear what he has to say about the possible name for our son.

“Noah’s nice.”