Loving Sutton (Planchette Ink, Book 1)

Prologue

Emerson

I push the door open, looking around. I bite my lip, feeling the nerves as I clutch my portfolio in my arms. I wipe my hand off on my jeans, switching my portfolio so I can wipe my other hand off. Planchette Ink in Misser Valley, Montana has been my dream since I was fifteen. The walls of the shop are blood red, the floors look like black marble. It’s gorgeous in here. Flash art and custom designs cover the walls, one design stopping catching my eye. I walk across the floor, my shoes squeaking on the floors as I make my way to the art.  

It’s a woman, half of her face replaced by a lion. Her eyes are bright green, her hair a dark red. They’re both snarling, both look fierce. I step closer, taking in all the details and the linework. It’s breathtaking, honestly.  

“It’s my favorite too.” I jump, spinning around. I juggle the portfolio as it starts to fall, catching it and pulling it against my chest. He smirks, as I take him in. Sutton Adler, my hero artist. All six-five of him is gorgeous and a work of art. His black hair is styled into a short faux hawk, a dusting of five o’clock shadow on his chiseled jaw. His black shirt hugs his muscles tight, stretching tight across his chest. I realize I've been gawking and snap my eyes to his. “What can I do for you?” I swallow, as I make my way to the counter. I try not to trip over my feet, as the hypnotic swirl of his eyes watch me close. Golden brown and greens, swirling to perfection.  

“I, uh,” I blow out a breath, shaking my head. “Sorry, you make me nervous.” He cocks a perfect sculpted eyebrow at me. “I’ve been following your work since I was fifteen.” He smiles. He's only ten years older than me, but I'm not even on the same level as him.  

“What’s your name, pretty girl?”  

“Emerson.” He nods, looking at the portfolio in my arms. He holds his hand out, and I hand it over quickly. He lays it down, flipping through it. He does it slowly, and I wring my hands together. Nervous isn’t even the words for it. My stomach is in knots, my hands are sweating, and I know my cheeks are bright red. Blame it on the fact that he’s looking at my art. No, my idol is looking at my work. He gets to the last drawing, and he looks up at me. I bite my lip, looking down at it.  

It’s a portrait of him. He was featured in a prestigious tattoo magazine, EliteINK. The picture was amazing, and I needed to capture it.  
“Did you draw this?” I nod, looking up at him. He studies me closely, looking back at the design.  
“I thought I took it out before I brought this in. I’m embarrassed now.” I murmur. Sutton chuckles, low and deep.  
“Can I hang this up?” I furrow my brows, looking up at him.  
“Wait, what?” He smiles, pulling the portrait out. He grabs a pen, handing it to me.  
“Sign your name at the bottom, so I can photocopy it.” I take the pen, my body moving on pilot as I sign my initials. I lay the pen down and he turns around. He does what he says, photocopying it. He turns around, placing it back in my portfolio. “Well, Emerson. What can I do for you?” I swallow, reaching up to play with my ear. My nervous tick. “Looking for a job?” I bite my lip, nodding. “Have you ever tattooed before?” I shake my head. He smiles. Sutton Adler just smiled at me, not a smirk or a grin. A full blown, showing almost all of his white teeth, smile. He flips back through the work, stopping on another one. He pulls it out, looking closely at it. It’s a simple geometric design that I drew for my sister. She loved geometric designs. “Follow me.” I furrow my brow as he walks around the counter.  

I’ve never set foot in Planchette Ink, now here I am. Following Sutton into the rooms where several men are tattooing. My fingers go to my ear, as he takes me to the back little booth. Half walls block each station, all sixteen of them. A few of the men are staring at me, and I blush. Every single one of them are gorgeous, but they don’t hold a candle to Sutton. I’m too busy looking around, when I hear him clear his throat. I turn to look at him, and my eyes widen.  

“Oh my god, you’re shirtless.” A few of the men chuckle behind me, as I look up at the ceiling. I hear him laugh, feeling myself glow red.  

“Come here and watch what I'm doing.” I move to stand next to him, as he stands in front of a laptop. “This is a thermal copier. You’ve already seen me use the copier up front. Same thing. You put the design in here.” He feeds my design in through the copier, and I watch as it appears on the screen. I nod, as he lays the design to the side. “Then once it’s copied, you send it to the thermal copier. You size the design where you want it.” He looks down at his chest, nodding as he makes it a little smaller. “When it looks good, you send it.” I watch his hand as he moves his finger on the touchpad. The thermal copier starts, and I jump. I look up at him and he chuckles. “You’re a jumpy little thing.” I nod, watching as the design starts to appear. While it’s printing, he moves me to face a wall. There are hundreds of different inks on the wall, and my eyes widen. Each color has five different shades, and it looks like a rainbow. He reaches up, grabbing the purest black I have ever seen. “Wash your hands, Poppy.” I look up at him.  

“Poppy?” I ask, because he knows my name is Emerson.  

“Yeah. You smell like a poppy flower, and your hair is the color of a red poppy.” I blush, walking over to the sink. I wash my hands, and he hands me a paper towel. I don’t even know what I'm doing. He’s just ordering me around. When I turn around, he’s laying a popsicle stick down with a glob of petroleum jelly on it. He grabs the design, cutting it out. He lays it down, before laying down on the chair across from the stool. I furrow my brows.  

“Wait, what are you doing?” He smirks at me.  

“Put on a pair of gloves. I’ll show you how to lay the stencil, get the machine working, and I’ll walk you through the tattoo.” My eyes bulge out of my head, and I look around the shop. Two of the guys are standing up, their eyes wide. “Poppy, get over here.”  

Over the next two hours, I’m not nervous. My hands aren’t shaking. I’m tattooing Sutton freaking Adler. I dip the needle back in the black ink, I meet his eyes. He’s watching me closely and I duck my head. When the needle touches his skin, he doesn’t even flinch. A few of his guys is watching me, as Sutton ignores them. I’m on the last line, when I meet his eyes again. I finally speak for the first time in two hours. “Why are you letting me ruin your chest?” He chuckles.  

“Finish the design, Poppy. We’ll talk after.” I nod, finishing the last line. One of his guys come over, showing me how to wipe the tattoo properly and Sutton climbs off the chair. He makes his way over to a mirror, looking closely at it as I tug the black gloves off. “Alright. Come here.” I stand up, my ass aching from sitting there for two hours. “See this line here?” He turns to face me, my face even with his chest. I nod, my eyes slowly trailing down each one of his perfect abs. The line of hair dipping beneath... Nope. I look back at the line. “It’s a little shaky. That’s the first line you did. Do you see this one?” He points at another one, and I nod. “That was your fifth or sixth. You started finding your groove by this time.” I look up at him, and he’s smiling at me. Another damn smile. He looks over my shoulder, and I turn around. The men that were watching me is smiling.  

“So, she’s got the job?” My eyes widen as I look back at Sutton. He nods, looking down at me.  

“Get another pair of gloves on. I’ll show you how to wrap it.” I jump to it, and he shows me how to wrap it. He has me put a SecondSkin adhesive on it. He pulls his shirt on, and I follow him back to the lobby and he steps around the counter. “You know I won’t take it easy on you, Poppy. You may be a pretty girl, but I’m going to treat you like an artist and an employee.” I nod. He holds up my portfolio. “This will stay here. You won’t be tattooing anyone, until you practice. You’ll start tomorrow.” I nod. “Go get some sleep, I'll be working you hard tomorrow.” He winks, and I nod. I turn around and head out of the shop. “Oh, and Poppy.” I turn around. His arms are crossed, and his eyes scan my body slowly. “There’s no fraternization allowed at work.” My mouth drops open as he makes his way to the back.  

My idol caught me ogling him. Jesus, this is going to be so hard. Sutton Adler and I cannot become anything more than boss and employee.  

I can do this.