(This post is a behind the scenes look of what we didn’t see in Fifth Grave Past the Light)

  When last we left Charley and Reyes, Charley had just received a sticky note with a very important question on it.

Flabbergasted, I walked back to the kitchen where Reyes was stir-frying a pan of cubed chicken for quesadillas. Green chili sad heating on the stove next to it, and the whole room was alive with the tangy scents of Mexico.

“What is this?” I asked, holding up the sticky note.

While he didn’t take his eyes off his task, one corner of his mouth lifted playfully. “It’s a simple yes/no question, Dutch.”

“But— But, it’s THE question.”

“Is it?” he asked, tossing the chicken about. The way his hands deftly handled the simple task was rather mesmerizing. His forearms chorded with each movement, sensuous under his dark skin.

“You know it is.” I stepped back and examined him. There was something about a man in an apron. Or maybe it was just Reyes in an apron, because our other cook Sammy had never made my insides clench at the sight of him in his. “This is serious business, Reyes Alexander Farrow.”

“I’m well aware of that Charlotte Jean Davidson.” My name said with his deep, rich voice, weakened my knees.

“And you have to mean it,” I said.

He set the chicken aside and turned to look at me. A lock of his obsidian hair fell over his brow, his brown eyes shimmering underneath.

“You think I don’t mean it. Is that the problem?”

“No. Well, yes. I mean, you can’t take this back once you throw it out there.”

He stepped closer and hooked a finger into a loop on my jeans. Pulling me toward him, he said, “I have no intentions of taking it back.”

I stuffed the note into his shirt pocket as he wrapped his arms around me.

“Why don’t you think about it first? You know, put some effort into it. Maybe make a list.”

“A list?” he asked, seeming amused.

“Yes. A pros-and-cons thing. Weight the good with the bad. See which one wins.”

His fingers dove into my hair, holding me steady as his head dipped until his mouth was at my ear. He waited a long moment, brushing his lips over my lobe, sending his warm breath along my neck. Then he whispered to me, his words almost harsh, they were filled with such passion. “I have waited for you for centuries, Dutch. Since before the invention of the compass and the discovery of electricity, when men thought they were the center of the universe and the sun bowed at their command. And I will continue to wait until the stars burn out and the universe goes cold and black if that’s what it takes. The only list I need to make is the one noting all the reasons it took me so long to find you.”

After a long moment, he gave me a soft squeeze then let me go.

I fished out the note and palmed it as though it were a precious artifact. “Okay, then,” I said, before turning to leave. “Just making sure.”

“Is that a yes?” he asked, his voice teasing.

I drew in a cool breath of air, calming my senses enough to face the world. “I’ll get back to you,” I said without turning around. I had to play at least a little hard to get.