Read Online Never to Keep (Accepting Fate #1) by Aimie Grey - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Aimie Grey
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glanced over toward where I’d left Peyton. A man with dark hair and broad shoulders was crouched next to her. She stood absolutely still except for a tiny tremble of her lower lip. Without a word of goodbye to Charlie, I raced back to her side, nearly knocking over a little boy on my way.
“Are you okay, baby?” I asked. She released the breath she’d been holding, wrapped her arms tightly around my hips, and moved behind me.
My stomach fell to the floor when the man stood to full height. Eyes as blue as the deepest ocean locked with mine.
“Hi, I’m Mr. Ramsay.” He held his hand out in greeting. The tight smile he gave me didn’t sit well on his ridiculously handsome face.
“Madison Miller.” I took his hand and released it quickly as I tried to hide the residual anger that burned in my chest.
I leaned down when I felt Peyton tug on my skirt. “Mama, I don’t want a boy teacher.”
“It’s okay, sweet girl.” I reinforced my stomach before saying the words she needed to hear. “Mr. Ramsay seems really nice. You can trust him.” I hoped I wasn’t lying to her. His fiancée obviously shouldn’t trust him, but surely the kids could—or else he wouldn’t have a job.
Peyton tugged on my arm until I bent down closer to her. “He gots the same hair as Daddy,” she whispered sadly in my ear. I didn’t have to look at him to know his shaggy, dark hair was in fact the same color as Ryan’s.
“Is Mr. Miller here tonight?” he asked. The bite of acid in his tone cut through the forced smile on his face. The quiver of Peyton’s lower lip picked up momentum. I stroked her soft hair in an attempt to soothe her. “I like to meet both parents before the school year starts whenever possible.”
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting to his dig. Instead, I responded as calmly as I could, needing to redirect the conversation without upsetting my little girl any further. “He isn’t here. Are there any forms I need to fill out before we leave?”
He handed me a red folder from the top of Peyton’s desk. “You can take this home and send it back with her on Monday. Maybe her dad will help fill out the forms, since he didn’t bother coming with you tonight.” His judgmental tone was completely inappropriate.
I opened my mouth to let him have it, but stopped abruptly when a wail of pure agony alerted me to the breech in Peyton’s emotional dam. Fat tears spilled down her face like raindrops in a thunderstorm. She fled the room in search of higher ground.
“Her dad isn’t here tonight, and he won’t be filling out any forms because he’s dead ,” I snapped. “Maybe if you would’ve bothered reading her file you would have known that, asshole,” I said a little too loudly in the room full of seven-year-olds and their conservative parents. I dropped the folder and ran out of the room to look for my niece.
I found Peyton sitting on the floor in the hallway a few doors down with an older woman crouched beside her. “Hi, I’m Mrs. Paul, the school counselor.” I shook her extended hand and returned the greeting. “Would the two of you like to come to my office? I have a huge jigsaw puzzle I’m working on and could use a little help.” Her friendly smile calmed my nerves and seemed to soothe Peyton’s hurt.
Peyton perked up. “Can we, Mama?” She wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“Of course, sweetheart.” I took her hand to help her up from the floor.
“Mrs. Paul, could I borrow Ms. Miller for a little while?” The deep voice behind me sent shivers up my spine.
“I think I should stay with Peyton,” I said quickly before Mrs. Paul could respond. “Besides, you still have a classroom full of parents to meet.” I looked behind him and saw Charlie watching from the classroom door with concern on his face.
“It’s okay, Mama. You can come help with the puzzle when you’re done.” Peyton’s little voice sounded so sturdy, considering the state she had been in only a
“Are you okay, baby?” I asked. She released the breath she’d been holding, wrapped her arms tightly around my hips, and moved behind me.
My stomach fell to the floor when the man stood to full height. Eyes as blue as the deepest ocean locked with mine.
“Hi, I’m Mr. Ramsay.” He held his hand out in greeting. The tight smile he gave me didn’t sit well on his ridiculously handsome face.
“Madison Miller.” I took his hand and released it quickly as I tried to hide the residual anger that burned in my chest.
I leaned down when I felt Peyton tug on my skirt. “Mama, I don’t want a boy teacher.”
“It’s okay, sweet girl.” I reinforced my stomach before saying the words she needed to hear. “Mr. Ramsay seems really nice. You can trust him.” I hoped I wasn’t lying to her. His fiancée obviously shouldn’t trust him, but surely the kids could—or else he wouldn’t have a job.
Peyton tugged on my arm until I bent down closer to her. “He gots the same hair as Daddy,” she whispered sadly in my ear. I didn’t have to look at him to know his shaggy, dark hair was in fact the same color as Ryan’s.
“Is Mr. Miller here tonight?” he asked. The bite of acid in his tone cut through the forced smile on his face. The quiver of Peyton’s lower lip picked up momentum. I stroked her soft hair in an attempt to soothe her. “I like to meet both parents before the school year starts whenever possible.”
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting to his dig. Instead, I responded as calmly as I could, needing to redirect the conversation without upsetting my little girl any further. “He isn’t here. Are there any forms I need to fill out before we leave?”
He handed me a red folder from the top of Peyton’s desk. “You can take this home and send it back with her on Monday. Maybe her dad will help fill out the forms, since he didn’t bother coming with you tonight.” His judgmental tone was completely inappropriate.
I opened my mouth to let him have it, but stopped abruptly when a wail of pure agony alerted me to the breech in Peyton’s emotional dam. Fat tears spilled down her face like raindrops in a thunderstorm. She fled the room in search of higher ground.
“Her dad isn’t here tonight, and he won’t be filling out any forms because he’s dead ,” I snapped. “Maybe if you would’ve bothered reading her file you would have known that, asshole,” I said a little too loudly in the room full of seven-year-olds and their conservative parents. I dropped the folder and ran out of the room to look for my niece.
I found Peyton sitting on the floor in the hallway a few doors down with an older woman crouched beside her. “Hi, I’m Mrs. Paul, the school counselor.” I shook her extended hand and returned the greeting. “Would the two of you like to come to my office? I have a huge jigsaw puzzle I’m working on and could use a little help.” Her friendly smile calmed my nerves and seemed to soothe Peyton’s hurt.
Peyton perked up. “Can we, Mama?” She wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“Of course, sweetheart.” I took her hand to help her up from the floor.
“Mrs. Paul, could I borrow Ms. Miller for a little while?” The deep voice behind me sent shivers up my spine.
“I think I should stay with Peyton,” I said quickly before Mrs. Paul could respond. “Besides, you still have a classroom full of parents to meet.” I looked behind him and saw Charlie watching from the classroom door with concern on his face.
“It’s okay, Mama. You can come help with the puzzle when you’re done.” Peyton’s little voice sounded so sturdy, considering the state she had been in only a
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