“You okay, babe?” He looks over at me.

I nod then busy myself with cleaning up, refusing to mentally get into why I keep having déjà vu whenever I’m around this guy.

“Can I play now?” Winter asks as Clay spins her mock test around to look over it.

When he’s done reading her the last word, he says, “Go for it, kid.” And lifts his chin.

“Are you coming, Willow?” She looks at me.

I smile at the adorable expression on her face. “Yes, in just a second.”

“Yay.” She jumps off her stool and bounces across the living room to a set of double doors that she shoves open.

From where I’m standing, I can’t see much, but I can see the large doll house she told me about earlier.

“Her dad is?”

“Miles.”

I nod remembering how much I thought that he and Clay looked alike, and if I didn’t know and just saw them together, I would have thought that Winter was Clay’s daughter, so that makes sense.

“On days he works, I pick Winter up from school and she comes and hangs with me until he gets off.”

“That’s sweet.”

“What can I say, I’m a sweet guy.”

“I somehow find that hard to believe.” I mumble and he chuckles. “Where’s her mom?”

“She lives in Denver.”

“Oh.” I rub my lips together not sure how to respond to that.

“She flies in as often as she can, and Winter spends the summer and some holidays with her. It sucks, but it works for all of them.” He pushes away from the counter then takes the towel from my hand, tossing it onto the counter. “Come on, I’ll clean up in a bit.”

“Okay.” I follow him across the space to the double doors where we find Winter sitting on the floor in front of her dollhouse. She’s wearing headphones but focused on Skye, who is lying next to her on her back getting a belly rub. I take my eyes off the two of them and blink. I thought the rest of the house was big, but I was wrong, this room is huge, and a dream hang out spot for kids and adults alike. Not only is there a giant TV with comfortable looking couches and a bar set up with rows of liquor bottles, but there is also an entire kids’ playground and I’m not talking about one of those rubber ones some people have inside their houses when their kids are little. No, this one has a full-sized slide that drops into a pit of foam, swings, and monkey bars.

“Holy cow.” I breathe when I spot a mock treehouse tucked into the corner of the room that is so tall it almost reaches the ceiling.

“I had this all built when Miles and Winter were staying here before their place downstairs was finished. I haven’t had the heart to take it all out,” Clay says.

I focus on him. “It’s very cool.” I shake my head. “So, they live in the building?”