Marshall woke to the bright streak of sun, oddly refreshed despite the aches and groans of a body acquired after a handful of hours on the floor. Blankets tucked around him, Eva nowhere in sight, while the girls still slept, Marshall tiptoed out of the room.

Found the door to Eva's en-suite partially ajar, shower running and music streaming from her alarm radio. The sound of her singing along made him smile.

Quietly, he picked through the clothes in his bags, dressed in jeans and sleeveless shirt before heading downstairs to start breakfast. As he reached the bottom, he was greeted with desperate scrabbling of paws on wood of three very excited pups and one spastic LeBron who leapt and bounded and demanded first dibs of his attention

"Hey, boy," Marshall roped LeBron to his back and scratched a wiggling, panting belly. "You been minding the place for me?"

LeBron whined and yipped, licking and biting at his hands and face. Pushing the mass of fur aside with a laugh, he loped across the room in a jog, dogs bounding after him out into the backyard. He set them loose to play and take care of early morning needs.

Stomach growling, Marshall rubbed a hand across his belly. Omelets and yogurt and berries, Eva had said. Payton's request for her special breakfast. Peeking in the fridge, he found the ingredients and set them on the counter, deciding that he could make that fizzy OJ the kids had raved about, and this time toss in some mulled berries for colour and fun.

Phone chirping in his back pocket, Marshall pulled it out and—seeing a series of messages from Danni, opened the most recent.

Don't appreciate radio silence, M. CTV decision imminent. Gervais and Clear already onsite. Where are you?

Frowning at the screen, Marshall wasn't surprised when another of Danni's rapid-fire messages came through seconds later.

Move it, or lose it, buddy. Remember what's on the line.

Setting the phone aside, he went about his prep, chopping up a medley of peppers, shredding cheese and slicing mushrooms so they were wafer thin. All the while puzzling the matter. So the top heads had made a decision, why wasn't he excited about it? Why wasn't his heart racing with the same sort of anticipation it had last night at seeing Eva in that scandalous bit of black lace?

Why was the thought of leaping back on a plane and flying out to Toronto making his belly knot and tangle with all the wrong sort of feelings? Because his heart wasn't in it anymore. If he was honest, it hadn't been since the day Heng's blood had stained the rebel camps mud. And the brief taste of the televised news world couldn't hold a candle to this—waking up next to the woman he loved. Yes, loved.

Completely. And those girls. He wanted them too. He wanted the whole messy, wonderful business of chasing away monsters and whipping up omelettes. Beating eggs in a bowl, a pinch of salt and pepper—Marshall finally knew what he had to do.

First was firing off an email to Mouse, calling off the digging expedition, full payment notwithstanding, and the second...well, the second was going to require at least the courtesy of a phone call.

While butter melted in a skillet, he dialled Danni's number.

"Marshall," she snapped in greeting. "What the fuck?"

"Danni." Pouring in the beaten egg mixture, he sprinkled a generous handful of the chopped veggies, ham and shredded cheese over top. "I'm going to keep this quick, but wanted you to hear it straight from me. I'm out, Dee. All the way out, and all that that implies."

In the following silence he could almost hear the screaming roar of her temper, loud as a foghorn despite her softly uttered response," You're making a huge mistake."

Overhead, the floorboards creaked and he imagined the sight of Eva's wiggling little body dancing along to the Ed Sheeran, and smiled.

"I've made up my mind."

"You're going to give it up, everything we've worked for? And do what, exactly?"

Lifting the skillet, he rolled the pan over the heat, cooking the eggs and filling evenly. A quick jerk of his wrist and the omelette flipped, folding neatly in half.

"Might try my hand at writing a book."

"You burn this bridge, there will be no one in publishing who will touch you. I'll make sure of it. So help me."

Though his heart pinched, he wasn't the least bit surprised. Their years of friendship had always been conditional upon a sense of obligation to her for taking him on when he was as a green nobody. And she'd been happy to reciprocate that friendship for as long as his accomplishments and ambitions aligned with her own.

Now that he was taking that all away, there was nothing tethering them together anymore. Nothing but respect he'd apparently made the mistake to believe had been mutual.

Learning now that it wasn't was oddly...freeing.

"You've got a long arm, Dee, but not even your reach is that long."

"Marshall—"

"So long, Dee," he said. Hung up. And began the second omelette with a light heart.

#

Eva found him like that, in the kitchen, flipping omelettes in a skillet like he'd grown up behind the stove. And likely had, she thought, with a mom like Lottie Davies she would have had a firm hand with her boys in the kitchen, just as much as her daughters. Teaching them how to cook, clean and manage a household regardless of gender.

Roping her arms around his waist, Eva pressed a kiss between the hollow of his shoulder blades.

"Morning, gorgeous."

"Hello handsome. Smells good." Peering around she saw omelettes folded and stacked on a plate, their insides stuffed with sliced vegetables, cubed ham and oozing cheese.

"No mushrooms in Lucy's," Eva cautioned. "And extra cheese."

"Coming up," he said, adjusting the ingredients. When the contents were in the skillet, Marshall turned around and sank into a slow, melting kiss. The kind that made Eva's belly flutter and body soften and toes curl.

She loved kissing this man.

She loved this man. Period. A wonderful and terrifying truth to discover when up until now she hadn't realized she'd never loved anyone—aside from her girls. Not like this.

"Mom. Payton and Lucy are taking forever in the bathroom and...Ew. What's he doing here?" At the sound of Hailey's indignant voice. Eva and Marshall sprang apart, and she looked from him back to her daughter. Christ, when she'd poked in to the rooms, her girls had been fast asleep—Hailey especially—and she had hoped to break it to her alone upstairs.

"Morning, Hailey," Marshall said, giving the skillet a wiggle so the eggs wouldn't burn. "Hungry?"

"Ew," she said again, cutting her eyes at him. "Seriously mom, what is he doing here?" Hailey shot flaming eyes to Eva.

"I'm almost thirteen. I'm not a baby anymore." She shook back her hair, eyes hot with challenge."

Eva jerked straight, clamped down on her temper. Getting angry and heated wasn't going to solve anything. "Hailey, I get that you're upset right now, but I don't appreciate your tone."

"But—"

"I'm the parent. You're the child."

"Don't you see? You're ruining it. You're ruining everything."

As Hailey stormed off, Eva folded like a bad hand, set her forearms to the counter and her brow to quartz. "Oh God, did you see her face?"

"She just needs to calm down."

"She so angry with me. All the time." Straightening, Eva looked up at him, her features filled with helplessness. "Hailey's never seen me with anyone but her father. As the oldest she obviously has more...memories of her dad and our separation was tough. And the last few years...tougher. I told you I don't have men around them and this is why. I don't know what to do, how to get through to her anymore. We're always fighting."

"And you're going to fight a million more times before she reaches eighteen. Part of being a parent." Drawing her against him, he stroked a hand up her back, followed with slow, easy circles. She was so brittle, he thought. One more push, however small, and she'd shatter right before his eyes.

"Go wake up Payton and Lucy. I'll finish up here and then take off before they come down. We'll take it slow and do this right, Eva. Together."

"Alight," she said. He kissed her soundly before letting her go, listening to her shuffling footsteps going up the stairs. Turning off the stove, he carried the plates to the table when he heard the opening of a window and saw the ivy clinging to the side of the house tremble.

Kid was making a run for it, he realized, setting the plates down. Marshall made it about halfway back to the kitchen before he paused, weighing his options.

"Hell," he muttered, and swung outside. The kid was slick, he thought, with a sliver of respect to twine with the mild irritation. The bottom half of Hailey wiggled out the window of her room as she struggled to navigate the trellis.

Leaning against the deck railing, Marshall watched her slow and amateurish progression, pausing constantly to search for foot and hand holds.

"Took you long enough," he said, And had the sincere pleasure of seeing her jump near three feet in the air at the sound of his voice the instant she touched the patio decking.

Flaming eyes, rimmed with tears, pierced him dead through. "What're you doing here?"

"Had a hunch, seems I was right." Marshall tucked his hands in his back pockets as he moved towards her, careful to maintain a non-threatening distance. "My best friend grew up in this house. He and I shimmed out that window more times than I can count."

"So? Want a medal or something?" Skirting around him, Hailey stomped down the steps. "Get lost."

It wasn't hard for him to catch up, perks of being a grown-up, so no matter how fast she swung her legs, she couldn't shake him. Huffing with exertion and temper, Hailey turned on her heel, fingers curled into tight little fists.

"Go away."

"No."

"Stop being such an asshole!"

"Stop being such a brat." And that had her eyes pop wide in her sweet little face. Good, he thought. Kid needed a bit of shock therapy, and he wasn't the sort to pander to spoiled tempers. Lowering to the ground, he crossed his legs and patted a patch of grass next to him. "Now, why don't you take a breath and tell me what's going on?"

Flopping next to him, her eyes dropped to her toes, cheeks flush with unspent temper and tears. "Can't."

"Try." He nudged her shoulder with his elbow. "You don't have to tell me anything that might get you in trouble. I get that there's something going on I'm not allowed to know, at least, not yet. But you can still talk to me about the rest. I won't bite. And I won't treat you like an idiot."

Hailey looked up at him, swiped a hand across her chin.

"Is it about your dad?" he asked softly. "Do you miss him?"

"Not really," Hailey mumbled and hastily tried to remove the evidence of tears. "It's just...I like it here. Lucy likes it here. Payton, too."

"Good, but I don't understand why you think I'll be a problem?"

"Boys are always a problem. And she promised." For a long while they sat in silence, Hailey furiously plucking at grass. Finally, Marshall asked the question he'd been too afraid to ask, but always worried about.

"Hailey. Did someone hurt you and your mom?" He saw the struggle in the tensing of her fingers, the warring of the expressions on her face and knew he was circling the drain and getting closer.

"Sorta. But I'm not allowed to talk about it."

"Fair enough." No way in hell was he going to con a kid into crossing that kind of line. "Do you think I'd hurt you and your mom?"

She glanced up at him, her eyes—an unusual shade of amber so like her mother's—narrowed in silent scrutiny. Finally, she softened and a hesitant smile, the first he'd seen directed towards him, crossed her lips. "No."

Progress, he thought, and brushed a hand across her shoulder, squeezed. "Well, that's a start. I care about your mom, but I care about you, too, you know."

"Sorry I called you an asshole."

"Sorry I called you a brat."

Her lips quirked into a smile. "Well, I was, I guess. Being a bit bratty."

His impish smile mirrored hers. "Yes, you were. But I forgive you." At the sound pouring from inside the house, Payton and Lucy and yipping puppies, Hailey glanced back, to the sight of her sisters clamouring around the table and Eva managing the chaos.

"Guess I should get back. Say I'm sorry."

"You should." Marshall agreed. "Not today, certainly not tomorrow, but soon, you should apologize to her. When you're ready. When you actually mean it. No point in saying it if you don't."

"You're not like most grown-ups."

"Guilty as charged." Leaping to his feet, Marshall reached out for her hand and helped Hailey to hers. "C'mon. I'll race you back."

Hailey held his hand as they ran.