Page 44 of Guarded

Briar opened her eyes expecting complete darkness, and was surprised that it was already getting light out. Morning? What the hell time was it?

She rolled over, winced as her engorged breasts squashed against the mattress. It was after seven, which meant she’d had more than eight hours of sleep.

In a row. Without being woken up once.

She looked down at herself. Her breasts were full to bursting. She didn’t remember feeding Rosie after Matt got home and…

Oh, God.She closed her eyes as last night came flooding back. That horrifyingly embarrassing meltdown.

Her insides tightened with dread at the thought of facing Matt this morning. He must think she had lost her damn mind.

And Rosie. She must be starving.

Briar threw on her robe, quickly brushed her teeth and hair and rushed out into the hall. The nursery door was open, the crib empty. Matt must have her downstairs. Was he still home?

She hurried down the stairs, turned the corner and stopped dead at the sight that greeted her in the living room. Matt was stretched out on his back on the couch, fast asleep, with Rosie curled up on his broad chest, one big hand cradled over her back.

The sight of them turned her heart over.

Instead of waking them she grabbed her phone and came back to take pictures. She was straightening from bending over for a close up when Matt’s eyes popped open. He blinked up at her, glanced down at Rosie then back at her.

“Morning,” she whispered. “You were down here all night?” There were three empty bottles sitting on the coffee table beside him, so she guessed he had been.

He gingerly sat up, careful not to disturb Rosie. “Yeah. What time is it?”

“Seven. Here, I’ll take her up and change her.” She lifted Rosie, cuddled her close to kiss the top of her fluffy little head. She felt awful for the way she’d been last night.

“Already did about an hour ago. She should sleep for a while longer yet.”

Guilt settled inside her, prickly and sharp. He’d been out here on the couch all night handling everything alone to let her sleep because she’d had some sort of breakdown. “I’ve either gotta feed her or pump, before I burst.” Thankfully Rosie woke up and immediately started rooting. Briar latched her onto one side, sighed in relief as Rosie began to suckle and ease the pressure in her swollen breast.

“How are you feeling?” Matt asked, and at any other time she would have rolled her eyes at his cautious approach. As if he was afraid of setting her off if he said the wrong thing.

Now she couldn’t meet his eyes as she answered. “Much better. Thanks.”

“Of course.” When she started to turn away, he caught her arm, stopping her. “Can we talk about last night?”

She cringed inside. She’d been dreading this, having to confront her behavior in the harsh light of day. But even though she felt fantastic at the moment, she couldn’t deny she wasn’t always handling things well.

“Come on,” he coaxed. “Sit and talk with me for a while.”

Uncomfortable, she switched Rosie to the other breast to release the awful pressure in it, then sat next to him. Rosie lost interest a few minutes later and fell back asleep, but at least Briar didn’t feel like her boobs were going to burst anymore.

She burped Rosie then set her in the bassinet by the couch. When she turned around Matt surprised her by stretching out on his back once more and pulling her on top of him. “You’re a lot heavier than Rosie,” he teased.

She settled over him, poked him in the ribs. “Hush.”

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest, right under her cheek. “So,” he asked, one hand gliding up and down her back in a soothing rhythm. “What happened?”

There was no point in avoiding this or pretending everything was fine, even if it made her feel ashamed. It was easier to talk about while not having to look him in the eye, though.

“It’s the nights,” she said after a pause. Confessing this was hard. “I don’t know why. By lunchtime I usually feel pretty much normal, but for some reason when dinnertime rolls around and I start thinking about the night ahead, I feel…trapped. Lonely. Sad.”

His hand never stopped stroking over her back. “Do you think you might have a touch of postpartum?”

What? “No. No, nothing as severe as that.” Those women went through hell for months or years. She wasn’t that bad, was she?

“Baby blues?”

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