She laughed again. Her formal education might be lacking, but she’d graduated from the school of hard knocks early on. “Stepfather Un was always in and out of jail before he bailed on us, but don’t look so worried. Stepfather Deux was great—he’s the one who taught me how to handle a hammer. I was almost out of the house by the time Stepfather Trois rolled around, so even though he was a bit of a dick, I didn’t have much to do with him.”

“Jesus, Ruby. How on earth did you turn out to be such a normal, levelheaded person?”

She didn’t answer him for the primary reason that she hadn’t turned out the least bit normal or levelheaded. Those words didn’t apply to a woman who lied about her job, obsessed over a dog that wasn’t her own, and strove to win at all costs.

She knew the lie she was living wouldn’t last much longer—that she owed it to Spencer to admit the truth about her job and how little she’d accomplished with her education—but it was a lot harder than she’d expected. Mostly because she knew what would happen when she did. He’d stop looking at her with that light in his eyes—that one claiming her as his equal—and that would be the end of it. Of them.

As it turned out, she didn’t need to answer. Spencer watched through the window at where the three boys were taking turns petting one of the border collie puppies. Something about the scene must have affected him because he sighed and dropped his shoulders a good two inches.

“Gambling is and has always been Caleb’s vice. Poker, dice, horse racing, online gaming… It’s funny. I don’t think he likes any of it all that much, but he’s never been able to resist the spirit of competition.” He cast a wry glance over his shoulder at her. “Neither of us can, in case you couldn’t tell. But while I’ve learned to channel my energies into the West Coast Canine Classic, he’s always been more…adrift.”

Ruby understood the sentiment all too well. Adrift was the exact word she’d use to describe herself. Finding a cause was easy for a man like Spencer, who was intelligent and driven and knew exactly what he wanted out of life. For people like Caleb—and people like her—there were fewer options.

“He got caught running an illegal gaming website. It was shut down and he was sentenced to six months of house arrest, provided he has supervision—which is me. He also attends a weekly Gamblers Anonymous meeting. That’s what the references to dry cleaning are. He can only leave to go to the parole offices or the church basement where the meetings are held.”