Free Under A Harvest Moon by Joleen James

insurance you won't leave with him."
    With an exasperated sigh, he reached in his front pocket and handed her his keys, then removed his wallet from his back pocket, passing the billfold to her.
    Danielle opened the wallet and gave him the cash. "I'll keep the rest until tomorrow."
    "You're nuts," Peter said with a disgusted shake of his head.
    "Maybe," she conceded. "But unlike you, I can't live without my son. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to change into some dry clothes."
    Taking his wallet and keys, Danielle went inside, leaving Peter alone on the porch.
    ***
    Nico let himself out the screen door, careful not to let it snap shut behind him. Although it was after ten, a good hour past his usual bedtime, he couldn't sleep. He felt restless, like a caged animal, unable to stay inside the house breathing the manufactured air from his air conditioner. He needed real air, even if the air outside was still a balmy seventy-eight degrees. Taking a seat in the rocker, he zeroed in on Whitney House, on the glow of light coming from Danielle's room.
    Was she keeping him awake? Yes. Today had shown him a different side of her. He'd seen no sign of the spoiled teenager she'd been. She wasn't a quitter. He'd known she wasn't used to physical work, and he'd given her a physically demanding job. Not once had she complained. She didn't want to work for Whitney Vineyards, yet she'd sucked it up and stuck it out. He'd considered taking her back to Whitney House much earlier, but when he looked at her, he could see the pride on her face and in her body posture. Even if he'd offered to shorten her day, she wouldn't have accepted.
    Later, when they'd returned to the house, to find her ex-husband waiting was another image he couldn't seem to banish. What was it about the guy? The phrase "snake oil salesman" popped into Nico's mind. There was something too polished about Peter Rankin, a charm so smooth it was slimy. What on earth had possessed Danielle to marry a guy like that?
    Danielle moved in front of her bedroom window. From here, he could barely make her out; just enough of her to know it was her, not Kaiden who occupied the room. Was she as restless as he was?
    What was she doing alone in her room? Nico closed his eyes. He could only imagine what he'd like to be doing with her in her room. She'd looked damn good after the swim, her clothes molded tightly to every luscious curve. Lust dragged at his gut. He couldn't remember the last time he'd lusted after a woman, wanted her with an intensity that had nothing to do with logic, only instinct.
    So maybe it wasn't exactly Danielle that kept him awake, maybe it was sex, or better yet, the lack of sex in his life. Sleeping with Danielle would be a mistake on so many levels. He didn't need the complication.
    Nico opened his eyes. Danielle remained at the window. Was she searching for him in the darkness? Nico swore he could feel the current between them, a raw energy that stretched between her bedroom and his front porch. Then she was gone. Her light went out. Great. Now he was left to imagine her peeling off her clothes, getting into bed. Arousal again shot through him, more potent than any drug. Nico jumped out of the chair. Maybe a walk would calm him down, push the thoughts of Danielle from his mind.
    He left the porch, intending to make a wide loop around Whitney House. He set out, his stride long. The whisper of the grape leaves surrounded him. Somewhere in the fields he heard the hiss of water as the sprinklers worked their magic. He rounded the back side of Whitney House and took a detour through the rose garden.
    "Who's there?" Danielle's voice called out in the darkness.
    Nico stopped, trying to pinpoint her whereabouts. "It's me."
    "Nico." He could hear the relief in her voice. "You scared me." She stepped out of the shadows. "I'm a little nervous after the rose cutting incident."
    "You should be." He closed the space between them. God help him, he could smell her, a light sweet