Eva planted the mop at her side and blew the uneven edge of bangs out of her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Ignoring her question, he leaned casually against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest. "Got a call," he said after a stretch. "A panicked cry for help, so I came straight over." He strolled in, reached for the mop. "Here," he said. "Let me take over."

"I can manage on my own."

"Didn't say you couldn't." His eyes slid down. Tiny feet with coral tipped toes met tapered ankles and shapely calves of a woman who kept the rest of herself in shape with morning runs and evening Yoga. Interesting, he thought, to see that for someone who clearly didn't care enough to put a comb through her hair, would paint her nails.

And not her hands, but her toes. A part of her body usually hidden from plain sight inside ratty shoes. Not sure what it all meant, Marshall tucked away the little detail.

Moving closer his long fingers curled around the wooden handle, just below hers. "Many hands make light work, after all."

He'd tied his hair back, Eva noted. Shaved off his scruff of beard, so his face was unobstructed. Blatantly exposed. And handsome as hell. A little snarl of lust curled in her belly, hummed and purred. She resented it. Hated it. But her body continued to hum and purr, nonetheless. Because he was so close, so warm, Eva let go of the mop and took three large steps back.

"Oh, Marshall, thank heavens," Lottie exclaimed from beyond them.
"We could use some muscle." Arms laden with old, faded towels, she passed a couple to Eva. While Marshall soaked up water and suds, both she and Lottie worked around the kitchen from the edges in towards the center, rolling towels and water, ringing out the excess on the porch.

It was tedious work, but with the three of them on hand, they'd managed to clear up the worst of the mess shy of ten minutes.

"Stan says he can be here within the hour," Harold announced, freshly changed into dry slacks and t-shirt tucked in at the waist, running a towel over his head of sandy hair. "I'll stay behind to see to him."

"Good. Okay." Lottie spun full circle, her mind a mess. "Okay. Right. I've got the cooler packed. The fold out chairs in the hall," those eyes leapt to Eva, "Oh honey, go on ahead. Marshall's here, I can catch a ride over with him, can't I, dear?"

"Course."

"Yeah, sure." Thankful to have a reason to escape, Eva was happy to make her goodbyes.

Wrangling girls back into the car, leaving the puppies to enjoy the fenced yard, Eva made it to Dallington's soccer field with five minutes to spare. Every second of which she had to squeeze down to the last nano helping Payton into her kit.

Finished lacing her cleats, Eva pulled Payton's soccer jersey over her head, adjusting the blue and gold shirt over her skinny frame.

"There," she said, smiling up at her daughter. "How's my little soccer star?"

Payton's face beamed bright with excitement as she thrust up two thumbs.

"Good. That's what I want to see. Remember, pace yourself, okay? Eye on the ball and do your best, baby. Win or lose, you're a champ."

Payton nodded again. A lock of dark honey hair fell into her eyes.

"How are your cleats? Are the laces too tight?" Eva asked while tucking that stray wisp behind her ear.

Payton shook a rigorous no and over her shoulder, Eva watched as Ethan approached. His face quietly composed and serious as always. Even though she'd come to know him, like and respect him, because he was the island's sheriff, her stomach always twisted and did a little anxious dance when he was around.

"How's my best striker?" he asked, left side of his mouth lifting a smidge-Ethan's equivalent of a full wattage grin. Payton's brown eyes rolled up to him, full of dewy admiration and Eva brushed a hand over her lips, smothering her smile.

In an effort to break through Payton's silence, Eva had prodded her into joining the Darling Dallington girls' soccer team. Only to discover that Payton had a natural gift on the field with quick feet, sharp reflexes and agility.

Raising her hand, Payton high-fived Ethan before joining her teammates out on the pitch.

Ethan watched her for a moment before swinging his eyes down to Eva, and held out a hand, helping her to her feet.

"Jenelle's up in the bleachers," he said, nodding beyond them. "Saved you a seat."

"Right. Thanks." Glancing over, Eva noted Hailey sitting cross-legged on the grass, headphones wedged into her ears. Lucy was next to her, chattering away, arms winging in exuberant, spastic motion, utterly oblivious that she was being ignored by her big sister.

Joining them, Eva held out her hand for Lucy. "Come on, baby, we've got seats up in the stands. Hail, wanna join us?" Eva said the last part a little louder, waving a hand before Hailey's eyes, capturing her attention.

She rolled them up to Eva with a curt shake 'no'.

Fine, Eva thought. And left her to her own devices. Climbing the steps, Lucy bounding them as quick as her little legs could manage, and they scaled up to the top row and over to the far left.

"Hey Gummy Bear!" Jenelle sang, catching Lucy in a fierce hug and gathered her onto her lap. "Ooooh so squishy. Can I take a bite? Yes? How about...here?"

While Lucy giggled and squealed, Jenelle made loud munching noises, nuzzling her face into Lucy's belly. As Eva sat down, even though the sun was softened behind a layer of clouds, she unfolded her sunglasses and slid them on to her face. Because you never knew who was going to snap a picture, or where the picture was going to end up...

"Momma," Lucy said, breathless from laughter, "can I have snack?"

"Ah..." Eva reached for her bag, halted mid-motion. Dammit. "I didn't pack anything, baby. Miss Davies has all the snacks with her."

"I bought a hot dog," Jenelle offered, holding up her foil wrapped dog smothered in ketchup and mustard from a tray at her side. Lucy turned up her nose.

"No. I want apple juice and carrot-ticks."

"Sticks, baby."

"That's what I said," Lucy grumbled. Not pleased at being corrected.

"We'll we're just going to have to wait a bit. Miss Davies should be here soon and--"

"Speaking of, there she is," Jenelle cut in, pointing off to the side of the soccer pitch. Eva followed that long, graceful arm to see Lottie shuffling backwards, dragging a cooler on wheels over the grassy field to the line of fencing where a row of proud soccer moms stood together.

Some talking, some cheering as both teams took to the field. All dressed in the school colours of gold and blue; united in support of their daughters. Off to the side, not quite part of the group, was Claire. She raised a tentative hand in a wave.

Pretending not to see her, Eva looked away. And hated herself for it.

"Go on and see Miss Davies," she said, patting Lucy's bum. And watched as she scampered down the row and down the steps. Black pigtails bobbing like flags in the wind.

As she met up with Lottie, Eva watched as Marshall unloaded the car, hauling over fold out chairs for the appreciative and dedicated moms. Behind the secrecy of her sunglasses, Eva was free to watch him without worry or fear of being caught.

Those long legs ate up a lot of ground, and he moved with a confident sort of swagger that should have been arrogant and off-putting. Waves of hair, teased by the wind, reflected streaks of burnished gold any woman would have killed for, or paid a fortune in a salon.

Head after head after head, married or otherwise, turned in his wake, unapologetic in their obvious appraisal of a fine male form.

"Ah, cue Becky." Cracking open a can of Coke, Jenelle leaned in to Eva, voice hushed with disapproval.

Becky, or so Eva could only assume, entangled herself around Marshall. Long, thin legs stemming out of tiny summer shorts. Hair pushed back off her face by the sunglasses atop her mane. Eva had seen her out and about the community but never took much thought or interest in the young blonde.

She wasn't particularly attractive, but Eva had to admit there was something there that drew the eye and made it linger. Coupled with an obvious sort of sexuality, how could a guy refuse?

The sound of her bawdy laughter shot across the field and Eva watched as she flung those arms around Marshall's neck. And he took his sweet time disentangling from them.

"She's wanted my brother for years," Jenelle continued, peeling back the foil from her hot dog. "But he was pretty serious with Gillian through most of high school and left the island shortly after graduation, so she never got a chance to sink her nails into him."

"Looks like she's making up for lost time," Eva commented, shaking her head as Becky swiped a hand at Marshall's bottom when he carried on his way.

Good, Eva thought, stealing a sip of Jenelle's offered Coke. If Becky had her sights aimed on him, she could keep Marshall busy.

All she had to do was get through the next three months and Eva intended to make herself scarce until the dust from his article blew over. She'd focus on her photography, on the girls, on saving up enough to buy her little cottage by the cove. Soon enough Marshall Davies would be gone. Out of her life. Out of her hair.

And good riddance.