Free Only In Dreams (Stubborn Love Series) by Wendy Owens Page A

the stairs, I weave through the halls and make my way into the rustic kitchen, the smell of muffins filling the air. Emmie is dancing with Olivia near the stove to a song on the radio I’ve not heard.
    She spins around, dancing her way over to me. “Oh my, Ms. Olivia, look who joined us. Can you say hi to Auntie Paige?”
    My heart warms as Olivia giggles and gurgles, her mom suddenly dipping her back in a dramatic dance move.
    “What’s gotten into you?” I ask.
    “I don’t know what you mean,” she replies, throwing a puzzled glance in my direction.
    “Dancing in the morning … what did you do with the Emmie I know?”
    “Tell Aunt Paige that just because she’s a grumpy puss, and her date must have went terrible, she doesn’t need to bring us all down,” Emmie says in a baby-like tone.
    My stomach twists and suddenly my face flashes with heat. My reaction is pure instinct. “How about you tell your mommy to hush it when she doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.”
    “Whoa!” Emmie replies quickly. “I was just kidding. No reason to get nasty.”
    I sit silently, avoiding eye contact, unsure why what she said bothered me so intensely.
    “I’m serious,” Emmie continues. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Did something happen?”
    “What?” I snap. “What does that mean?”
    “I don’t know.” She grabs a mug and pours me a cup of coffee without asking. “Clearly something has you on edge.”
    “I’m fine, but I just don’t like the jokes about Christian and me.”
    “All right, I’m sorry.”
    I feel bad and wish I hadn’t reacted so swiftly. “Since when do you bake?” I ask, shifting the attention away from my behavior.
    “There are a lot of things I started doing since we moved down here,” Emmie says. “I know you’re all Manhattan girl, but I think this town will really start growing on you.”
    “I think it already has,” I say, remembering the recent inspiration in my designs.
    “What? My ears must be deceiving me.”
    “You’re not the only one who has changed,” I say with a smile, scooping the sugar into my black coffee.
    “Oh, do tell.” Emmie plops a muffin on the table in front of me, no concern for a plate or napkin underneath it. I smile, thinking of Henry’s pet peeve. Pulling up a chair, she sits down, bouncing Olivia on her knee.
    “Tell what?”
    “All these things that have changed about you. I feel like we never get to talk these days, and when we find time to Skype, it’s always baby stuff.”
    “Seriously?” I gasp. “You can’t just put me on the spot like that. It’s not like I can just list things off.”
    “Today is Colin’s morning for the gallery, so please, let’s talk about something,” Emmie pleads, grabbing my arm. “What about last night?”
    “What about it?” I reply quickly.
    “You went out with Christian, right?”
    “Yeah, so?”
    “So, tell me, how did it go?” she pushes.
    “You do realize I’m engaged to be married,” I remind her.
    She glares at me. “Um, I know. I’m not accusing you of—” She pauses to place her hands over Olivia’s ears before whispering, “screwing him.”
    I laugh. Screwing has somehow become a curse word since Emmie became a mother. It is actually quite endearing, and I want to squeeze my friend to pieces.
    “He took me to dinner, then we came home, and I went to bed,” I say at last.
    “Oh no, that won’t do at all,” Emmie protests. “Where did you go to dinner?”
    Picking up the muffin, I take a sniff, trying to identify what is inside. There is a hint of banana and cinnamon. “You made these?” I ask nervously.
    “Yes, and they’re good.”
    “Do you have the number for poison control handy?”
    “Shut up! They’re good.” Emmie slaps my arm playfully. “Quit changing the subject and tell me about last night.”
    Lifting the delicious-smelling muffin up to my lips, I take a huge bite, allowing the moist mixture to dissolve in my mouth.
    With a