Page 23 of The Marriage Playbook

“I know that,” Cara agreed. “But that’s not a conversation I want to have until my clothes are here.”

He paused for a moment. “I have some things you can put on.”

She stared at him. “Nothing you have is going to fit me, Liam.”

She was right, of course. He must have been twice her size. But even so… “Just trust me, all right?”

She folded her arms and said nothing, just watched him.

He went over to the suitcase that had awaited him in the corner last night. He’d barely touched it. Everything that had happened had been so overwhelming that he had wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and put the day behind him. Now, though, he unzipped the suitcase and rummaged through it, and after a moment he came up with what he had been looking for—a Stingers jersey and a pair of drawstring sweatpants.

He returned to Cara and held the clothes out to her. “Put these on.”

She bit her lip. “You want me to wear your clothes?”

“You’ll be more comfortable in these than you will in that robe,” he told her. “And then you’ll be able to relax and we can actually have a conversation. Just put them on. They’ll fit you okay.”

She reached out slowly and took them. “All right,” she agreed. “Thanks.”

She backed into the other room, still moving slowly, as though she thought maybe he was going to change his mind and call her back. Liam went and sat down on the sofa to wait for her.

She only took a minute. When she emerged, the jersey was draped over her, hanging almost to her knees. She’d rolled up the cuffs of the sweatpants, but they had already started to unroll, and she stepped on them and almost tripped as she made her way over to him. He ducked his head, hoping to hide the fact that he was having a hard time not laughing.

Liam moved to one side so that Cara could sit beside him on the couch, but she didn’t take the seat. Instead, she paced in front of him.

“You sure you don’t want to sit down?” he asked her. “I wouldn’t want you to trip.”

She scowled at him. “I’m fine. Listen, Liam, I’ve been up half the night thinking about what we’re going to do next.”

“All right…” he said slowly.

“Do you believe me now, that this wasn’t some sinister plan on my part?”

“Yeah.” He smirked. “I shouldn’t have accused you. I saw your face in the church yesterday. You were almost as shocked as I was. And when we were leaving, it was like you completely forgot what we were even doing there. I lashed out at you because I was taken by surprise, but I should have realized you didn’t set that up. You wouldn’t have been so shaken by it if you had.”

Cara let out a huff. “I don’t know if you’re trying to insult me or say you trust me.”

“Can’t it be both?”

“Whatever. The point is, now that we’re in this together, we need to come up with a cohesive plan. It’s been twelve hours since the wedding…”

“More like sixteen, I think.”

“Do you want to split hairs with me, or do you want to hear my plan?” She held up a hand. “Don’t say can’t it be both again. Listen. You’re a football player.”

“You’ve been paying attention.”

“So I figure this will work best for you if we put it in terms of plays,” she said, holding up a pad of paper. “I made us a playbook for the next few days.”

“A playbook?” He was equally impressed and skeptical. “Do you know anything about drawing up football plays?”

“No, but I don’t really have to, because these plays aren’t for a whole team to run together. I only have to account for you and me.” She flipped to a page, turned it around, and held it out to him. “I’m X and you’re O. That’s how coaches do it, right?”

“Close enough.” He examined the page. “This rectangle. Is this a bed?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re saying you want us to go to bed together?”