Page 79 of It Should Have Been You

“So,” Cora urges, tapping the toe of her shoe against the floor. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. I want to meet the woman you deemed good enough to live here. That house has been finished for two years and you haven’t entertained a single interest from anyone.”

“It's not about deeming anyone 'good enough'—” I begin, but she cuts me off with a wave of her hand.

“No, no, don't even start with that. You've been picky about who moves in there and you know it.”

I don’t want to admit it, but she’s not wrong.

It had been standing there, finished but empty, for two years. Initially, my plan had been to sell both houses after I’d finished renovations, but when Evie passed and I moved back home, it felt like the house, this land, was calling me back. It felt wrong to sell, to let someone else claim what felt like a piece of me. Yet, the other house has remained unoccupied.

Until now.

When Beth came into the picture, looking as if she had walked out of one of my distant dreams and into reality, her eyes seemed to echo with a familiar sense of being lost, of feeling trapped.

I remember that feeling.

The offer for her to live here was out of my mouth before I could think it through. Once the words slipped out, there was no taking them back. And now she's here, living right next door.

Fuck. Me.

Cora's impatient tap on my arm snaps me back to reality. She pops a hand on her hip, glaring up at me under raised brows. It’s that stern look that still makes me nervous. I’m almost forty years old and she still scares me half to death.

Blowing out an exasperated breath, I grab a glass of water while wishing it was something stronger.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit early? And she only moved in yesterday,” I try to argue, but I’m cut short by pounding on the double doors.

“Loggie?” Chubby handprints mark the glass before a button nose is squished against it, a tongue sticking out.

Isabel started calling me that yesterday and it looks like it’s stuck.

“Skip, quick,” Cora calls, finally dropping the cookies on the counter. “Will you look at her? Isn’t she beautiful?”

Confused, I open the doors to a mop of curls and a smile as bright as the morning sun. “Loggie,” she beams with the cutest stomp of her feet, but she’s quick to forget me when she sees new people.

She marches past me.

What is it with the women around here?

But I find my lips turning upward despite the bombardment of a toddler. She’s on a mission, and nobody is going to stop her.

I watch as Cora melts on the spot, her eyes becoming soft before she crouches. “Good morning, sweetheart. You are just the cutest.”

“Morning, Miss Isabel. Where’s your momma?” I ask.

“I’m here. I’m here.” Covered in a light sheen of sweat, Beth comes running up the steps. Her face is flushed when her eyes finally meet mine, a sheepish smile spreading on her full lips. “Logan, I am so sorry. She’s a runner, and for two, she’s freakishly fast.” With one foot inside, she catches Isabel before she runs again and scoops the escape artist into her arms with her brows drawn tight. Then Isabel kisses her cheek and I watch Beth forget why she was angry. “You can’t go around disrupting Logan’s morning, Izzy.”

Cora waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, she’s fine. He wasn’t doing anything important.”

Just sleeping on my only day off.

For the second time this morning, Cora pushes past me, eyes on Isabel like she’s the best thing she’s ever seen. “I’m Cora, Logan’s aunt. This is Skip.”

Beth waves at him. “We’ve met.”

“I’ll be honest, darlin’, I can’t remember what I ate for breakfast.”

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