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Authors: Chloe Plume

BOOK: Rev
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I woke up with her there in my arms. She yawned and ran her delicate fingers down my chest. Light peeked from behind the curtains of the hotel room.

“It must have been difficult to watch what happened to your hometown,” she said. “Julian told me that after your dad started selling off the farms and ranches, people lost their jobs, the drugs came in, and families are really hurting.”

I exhaled deeply, my chest rising against her hand. “A whole way of life went out the window. And since my Uncle was the only one doing something about it, I just went ahead and did what felt right. Though now I’m not so sure.”

Winter propped up on her elbow and looked into my eyes.

Those big, warm brown eyes.

“Your brother told me you were only stealing from drug smugglers.” Her expression was full of understanding. “You’re getting the drugs out of your hometown. You shouldn’t feel bad about crippling the ones hurting the community and aiding those most hurt.”

“Our efforts are like a drop in the ocean. And we’re not exactly stemming the tide. Not to mention, just throwing money blindly at the problem doesn’t seem to work. Sudden windfall for one person stirs up all kinds of jealousy and temptation. Fights are breaking out more often. Theft and violence is on the rise.”

I watched her eyes grow heavy. Then her brow tensed in thought. She turned back on her back, head resting pensively in her pillow, and started up at the ceiling for a long drawn out moment.

“What is it? “ I asked, somewhat amused. “You look like you’re contemplating the mysteries of the universe or something.”

Finally, her voice spilled out across the room. “I just had an idea: CSA’s. The money you guys are trying to put back into the community, well it can go much further.”

“How?” I sat up, curious.

“Well, you put together these cooperative structures: Community Supported Agriculture groups. And they use that money, in cash, whatever, to buy land, equipment, seeding. Everyone gets a share of what amounts to both a business and a home. You’re washing the money and creating real ownership.”

I nodded along. The picture started to emerge and it was exactly what we needed.

“So you’re not just throwing a Band-Aid on the problem,” Winter continued. “You’re investing in Desert Haven.”

“And you can set all this up?”

She turned to me with a smile. “Well, you’ll need a lawyer, but I can finally get some use out of my Accounting education.”

“Kitten…” I wrapped my arms around her. “You’re a genius.”

I pulled her back under the covers. Her hands roamed between my legs, drawing out my erection.

“I’d really like it if you came with me to a family dinner tonight.” I nibbled on her ear and she sighed sweetly, arousing me further. “Every couple weeks we have a Sunday Night Dinner, and we could meet with my Uncle Norman beforehand to go over your proposal in more detail.”

She whispered playfully in my ear. “But we still have hours and hours before then… Whatever will we do?”

I was hard at attention, throbbing in her smooth, delicate hand.

I grunted as the tip of my cock grazed the softness between her legs. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

Winter

Rev’s Uncle met us on the family ranch, walking across the lush grass with a beaming smile across his face and his arms stretched out wide in exclamation.

“What’s this! Revon Gryffin, the incorrigible fool. Allergic to commitment. Could it be?” He stopped in front of us and looked me over with bright blue eyes sparkling out from a weathered face. “After all these years, I’m damn glad to bear witness to this moment.” He grinned, bursting with enthusiasm. “What she sees in you, Revon… well, you’re a lucky dog.”

I extended my hand. “Winter Calloway.”

“Norman Gryffin.”

Rev spoke up. “Alright, alright. Uncle Norman, let’s get to the point. Winter’s got a great idea. She can help set up Agricultural Cooperatives that transform the money we bring in. We won’t be playing defense anymore. We can go about looking at this whole thing like an investment.”

Rev’s Uncle nodded thoughtfully and ushered us along a faintly demarcated path through the field of high grass surrounding the Gryffin Ranch. “You wouldn’t believe it unless you saw it. This place is a utopia in the middle of an endless stretch of desert.”

“I couldn’t believe it as we drove up,” I said. “Suddenly, the dry sand ended and all I could see was lush green valleys and an expanse of abundant color on the horizon.”

“That’s what our father saw,” Rev’s Uncle explained.  Arthur Gryffin came out to this place and fell for it’s natural beauty. Everyone was looking for oil back then, up and down the West. The old man looked past all that. This land was dry as bone, yet he wanted it with a passion.”

We stopped at the edge of a huge field. Cattle and horses roamed through the wild stretches, some so far off they looked like tiny moving specks on the horizon.

“Arthur Gryffin bought all of this for a song,” he continued. “And now my brother’s selling it off just as easily. Nothing I can do about it either. Not after he and the investors cherry-picked the board and diluted my share of the land holdings. Shit, according to the new bylaws, I can’t even sell them.”

I spoke up, uncertain and hesitant at first. “I really think these Community Supported Agricultural initiatives can help.” I motioned to Rev indicating that he should chime in. “They’re a way for people to consider a viable long-term investment in their hometown.”

Rev extended his arm out over the landscape, motioning as he spoke. “Look, no one cares about this place as much as you, Uncle Norman. This place was your whole life. That’s what Winter is saying though. People won’t just be floating through life hoping for an act of charity. They’ll be rallying around businesses that are completely community owned. They’ll have an investment not only in their own futures, but the futures of their children.”

Rev’s Uncle nodded. He stared out over the horizon as the colors of the sunset settled down. “I get the appeal: stability, building up towards the future. It’s a good plan.”

“It’s a great plan,” Rev expressed.

“Yeah, except the big development companies are amassing land and influence in Desert Haven. I can’t help but feel we’re fighting a losing battle. Market goes up, families get priced out, and little by little everyone’s forced to sell.”

I approached closer, clearing my throat. “But then there’s politics.” Rev and his Uncle both turned towards me. I continued, “CSA’s give the community something to mobilize around. Look, no one’s saying you’re going to have more money than the corporations. And yeah, land will get more expensive—the bidding war’s begun. But hell, if families that have lived her for generations come together, they can take effective political action. If Desert Haven is a cohesive community of residents and business owners united in purpose and action—that’s the best chance there is, right?”

They both nodded. Rev walked over to me and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close.

His uncle thought things over. “Well, damn, that makes good sense. The way I see it, it’ll still be David and Goliath, but Winter’s given us the best damn sling we could get our hands on.”

Rev nodded, proudly. “I said it before, I’ll say it again—genius. “

I blushed a little. “It’s not that complicated. Not even sure it’ll work. But it seems like a step in the right direction.”

“Well,” Rev noted, “we better head in. My mom will be steaming mad if we’re late for dinner.”

“Oh, now none of us want to keep Helen waiting, his Uncle said, starting off back across the field. “It goes without saying though: this conversation never happened and it’s best if we keep all of this between ourselves.”

 

 

The light on the horizon began to fade and dusk settled in as we walked back over to the main house, which loomed large even in the distance. A circular driveway made of large cobblestone sat in the middle of the massive front lawn. Lush green grass and tall trees framed the sprawling homestead, and purple mountains soared in the far distance. I shook my head. It was hard to believe a place like this was surrounded by desert.

The house itself was white with shuttered windows and a slate blue roof. I couldn’t guess how many rooms, but I’d assume many. A white fenced patio ran the entire perimeter of the bottom floor. It had a homely feel despite its formidable presence. It conveyed the unmistakable presence of old money.

“Quite a place your family has here,” I whispered to Rev.

“Yeah, mostly all the additions my dad put on,” he said. “But at least they kept it the same style my grandfather preferred back when it was about a fourth of the size.”

As we made our way up the steps towards the front entrance, a voice boomed from inside.

“Get your ass in here Rev. I don’t like waiting on Mom’s cooking.”

The door opened and light streamed out onto the deck. Mayhem strode into the doorway, and suddenly the light was gone.

“Alright, alright,” Rev began jokingly. “But, I’m sure you like ate a whole cow two hours ago or something. Aren’t you on that whole 8 meals a day thing?”

“I’m training for that heavyweight international tournament in Russia. Need to put on some more muscle.”

Rev shook his head. “Why?” he asked rhetorically.

Mayhem ignored him. “Good to see you again, Winter. Surprised you’re still hanging out with this wise ass.”

He reached for a handshake. My hand disappeared for a moment.

“Uncle Norman.” Mayhem nodded. “Good to see you.”

“Cage.”

They shared a look, cold but respectful. Mayhem turned to go back inside and we all followed.

The entrance spilled into a huge, open room. Vaulted ceilings and a rustic western-lodge vibe. I recognized Ink sitting on a leather sofa by a petrified wood coffee table. An older man sat across from him, his back turned, hair clipped short and grey.

A woman with shoulder-length brown hair and a rounded face walked through an archway at the opposite end of the room carrying several wine glasses. When she saw Rev, his Uncle and me approaching, she hurried to place the glasses on the coffee table and meet us.

“Oh, it’s so good to finally meet you,” she beamed, bringing me into a soft hug. “It warms my heart to see Rev with someone like this. A mother worries…” She pulled back and looked Rev and me over, tilting her head to the side with a wide smile across her face. “Oh, you two are adorable.”

“Jee. Thanks mom.” Rev turned to the archway at the end of the room, through which you could see the end of a dining table set for dinner. “Smells good.”

“Smells like it’s getting cold,” Mayhem complained, pushing past Rev.

The older man on the sofa stood up and began filling the glasses with wine. “Everyone get a glass and let’s take a seat.” His voice echoed through the high ceilings, abrupt and peremptory.

Rev walked over to the table and got us both some dark, burgundy wine. “Let’s do this thing,” he joked, swigging back the whole glass of wine.

“Show some damn respect, Revon,” the older man snapped.

He was clearly Rev’s father, acting every bit the patriarch of the Gryffin family.

Mayhem nodded in agreement and walked through the arch and into the dining room. Everyone followed until we all sat around the table.

“Helen, this looks wonderful,” Uncle Norman remarked. “You outdo yourself every time.”

Helen began passing dished right and left. “Now, Edward,” she began, eyeing Rev’s father. “You take it easy on the pork. You know what the doctor said about your heart. There’s some baked trout I made especially for you.”

Edward scoffed. “What the hell am I gong to do with fish? That doctor doesn’t know what he’s talking about. They’re always changing their minds about what’s good and bad to eat every couple years anyway.”

Edward Gryffin was a stark contrast to his wife. Helen had a motherly presence and softness with her full figure and big blue eyes. Edward was stern with aquiline long features and harsh grey eyes.

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