Promises to Keep Nan Rossiter (books for 7th graders .txt) 📖

touch sending a white-hot current of heat straight down.

“Damn, you’re good,” she whispered back, pressing against him and feeling how aroused he was. He unbuttoned her jeans and slid his hand inside, teasing her.

She pulled his T-shirt over his head and unzipped his jeans, but before she could do anything more, he was pulling her onto the bed on top of him.

“Damn, Maeve,” he whispered, his hands on her hips, their bodies intimately entwined as the rocking rhythm grew increasingly urgent.

Finally, she collapsed on the sheets next to him. “Whew!” she said, laughing, and then—hearing a swishing sound—peered over his shoulder and saw Gus standing next to the bed with his chin on the sheets, wagging his tail. “How long have you been there?” she asked in surprise.

Gage turned to look, too, and smiled. “He must’ve just come in,” he assured her, “because he wasn’t there a minute ago.”

“Like you would’ve noticed,” she teased.

He laughed, knowing it was true. Then he scratched the dog’s ears. “Are you finally ready for pizza, mister?” Gus thumped his tail faster and Gage laughed. “Okay, okay,” he said, “I’m getting up.” He kissed Maeve and reluctantly slid from the bed, and as he pulled on his jeans, he looked back at her lying naked on his bed with the sheets strewn about. “Want me to bring your pizza in here?”

“Oh, that would be nice,” she said, stretching, “but, no, I’m getting up, too.”

“You don’t have to get dressed,” he said, grinning.

She rolled her eyes. “But I am,” she said, and as she sat up, he leaned down, picked up her shorts and tank top, and tossed them to her.

“Thanks,” she said, swinging her tan legs over the side of the bed. She watched him disappear down the hall, with Gus at his heels, and then pulled on her clothes. She glanced in the mirror to see how disheveled she looked, ran her hand through her hair, and shuffled to the kitchen.

“Want to sit on the porch?” she asked, reaching for her wine and taking a sip.

“Sure,” he replied, handing her a plate with a slice of reheated pizza on it. He grabbed his beer, held open the screen door, and followed her out into the evening sunlight. “This is such a pretty spot,” she mused as the sun sank below the horizon, casting a golden hue across the gardens.

“You say that every time we sit out here,” Gage said, sitting in the old, wooden Adirondack chair across from her, and she chuckled, knowing it was true.

The cabin had been in rough shape when Gage first drove into the overgrown driveway to look at it. It was so run-down that he’d dismissed the idea of living there, but after passing the RENT TO OWN sign every day for two weeks, he’d finally called the number and arranged to meet the owner for a walk-through. They’d stood in the middle of the neglected gardens and looked around, and because of its condition, he’d been able to negotiate a deal that made repairs part of the rent. Six months later, the owner—a divorce attorney who happened to be going through a divorce—had contacted him to say he was looking to free himself from all of his assets, and the little hunting cabin on the river, which had been left to him by his grandfather, was the first thing he wanted to unload. He had to get rid of it, and Gage, who’d been scraping and saving since he’d started working for Ben, had bought it for a song. In the two years since, he’d made the most of the construction skills he’d been acquiring, and with Ben’s guidance, they’d begun restoring it. He’d started with the exterior, repairing and replacing rotting windows and scraping and painting everything that needed it—which was everything! But the real blessing had come when the owner of a house they’d been working on decided to gut his kitchen and scrap all the cabinets, countertops, and appliances—which were practically new! Ben had asked the owner if he could have them, and the owner had agreed, happy to save on disposal fees. After work, Gage and Ben had hauled everything out to the cabin and spent the next two weekends installing the new kitchen.

“Did you get everything done that you wanted to get done today?” Maeve asked, hungrily taking a bite of her pizza.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get everything done.”

“That’s one of the drawbacks of owning a house,” Maeve teased, “endless maintenance! Which is why I rent,” she added with a grin.

“I rented for a long time and I always felt like I was throwing money away. In the end, you spend a ton and you don’t own anything.”

“But you also save,” Maeve countered, “because you don’t have to pay property tax.”

“The taxes out here are next to nothing. I don’t think this place has been assessed in years. It’s a hidden treasure.”

Maeve chuckled. “I’m surprised they didn’t assess it when you bought it, and you better hope they never come out to reassess it because when they see your view, your taxes will skyrocket—being on the river is like being on the ocean.”

“It is nice . . .” Gage agreed, looking out over the field of wildflowers at the sunlight reflecting on the winding river.

“I love it here,” she said with a sigh. “You’re so lucky.”

“I am lucky,” Gage agreed, taking another long sip of beer, “but my favorite view is sitting right next to me.”

Maeve rolled her eyes. “You are almost as silly as your dog,” she said, giving Gus a morsel of her pizza crust.

Gage smiled; he loved how Maeve adored Gus, and he knew the feeling was mutual—his big yellow puppy absolutely adored her, too. He distractedly wiped the condensation on the side of his bottle. “When I was young, we had a little barn cat named Mike. She was smoke gray with white paws . . .”

“Wait,” Maeve said, raising her eyebrows. “You had a female cat named Mike?!”

Gage nodded and took a sip