Chapter Nine

Maximus

Coming down the stairs, I listened out. Hearing nothing, which was a rarity, I chuckled at how everyone had deserted the house. By the time I hit the last step, my legs were protesting from the tiny effort. Exercising couldn’t have burned as many calories or made my body ache the way pleasing Tim, my twirlie stalk, had.

True to his words, he had gone ‘spice up the rhubarb’, singing his joy to anyone who would listen. Enthusiastic didn’t capture Tim’s fun side. After an activity filled night and the majority of the day, I was starving. So while Tim went to shower, I’d come down to hide the c-r-u-m-b-l-e.

I didn’t want to cause any more upset. And as I found myself copying Tim in the way he thought about it, I chuckled again when I entered the kitchen and looked for a safe place to hide it. Because the two seconds I’d contemplated throwing what was left away came with the knowledge it would cause a pride revolt and dealing with that on a couple of hours of sleep would not end well. I was going to need to explain the c-r-u-m-b-l-e saga to everyone when Tim wasn’t around.

I was searching the kitchen for a good place to hide what remained in the big bowl when the back door opened and Apollo poked his head around the door, peering at me with fear in his eyes. “Is it safe to come in?”

Smirking, I nodded, not caring that I was naked and a little—a lot—custard stinky.

He trailed in with the rest of the pride behind him. Drew, Leonidis, Burke, and Apollo mainly dragged their sneakered feet over the floor. Randy and Gordon, the last two, came in wearing matching looks of determination.

“You need to find a builder to fix the walls, man…” Gordon said, his hand pointing down at the bulge in the front of his old sweats, “I’m never gonna survive if you keep at it like rabbits. It’s hard enough having all this extra testosterone without the added noise stimulation and sexy stink you two have going!”

“Like rhubarb,” Drew muttered. “They’re going at it ‘like rhubarb’, because there ain’t no way a rabbit could keep going as long as Tim. The stalk has got some stamina!”

My grin widened. “He’s got some talent too, he can—”

“Talent?” bellowed Randy. “The man sings loudly, doesn’t get breathless when he’s riding the lion and smells like the best custard. We all know what talents he’s got.” He groaned and buried his head in his hands, pink hair falling around his face.

I did a rhubarb shimmy.

Clearly, Tim was rubbing off on me when everyone gawped.

More than once, Tim supplied, then the singing started once more. “Rhubarb Heels, lingerie pantystalks, rhubarb foreplay. Stalks up on the bar, in the back of your car. Custard bath, rhubarb cum, let me hear you scream.”

Tears of laughter ran down my face as I rocked back and forth, clutching my sides and unable to stop, when those around me groaned in unison.

“Please make him stop!” Leonidis said with a dramatic eye roll as he shoved his fingers into his ears.

“You’ll have to move out if this continues,” Apollo threatened, following the same move as Leonidis.

“I’ll buy you all noise canceling headphones, I promise.” I continued to snigger as those brave enough to not block their ears stared up at the ceiling where Tim continued to serenade us.

Apollo stomped to the counter where the c-r-u-m-b-l-e bowl sat covered over. I grabbed it before he could and held it out of his reach. “You can’t eat the c-r-u-m-b-l-e while Tim is here.”

“Huh! Are you for real? I need something after spending four hours sitting in the garden waiting for you to stop…” he shivered dramatically, “riding the rhubarb.”

“What’s with spelling the word crumble? Is it some form of code?” Randy questioned, eyeing the bowl with more than a little interest.

“It’s like a terrible thing for rhubarb shifters, a threat. You’ll end up in the c-r-u-m-b-l-e. So we need to be more sensitive to Tim and his kind.”

“What, no more crumble?” Apollo announced, loud enough it echoed around the room and Tim stopped singing. “Isn’t it bad enough we have to put up with you two, now we can’t eat—”

“Don’t say it,” I declared when I heard Tim sniff loudly in my head. “The word is banned, and we will no longer be eating it,” I stressed, solely for Tim’s benefit.

More grumbling happened as I went and scraped what was in the bowl into the garbage bin.

“Sacrilege,” Leonidis said in dismay.

“I’m sorry, but my mate is as important to me as you guys.”

The silence that followed was strained as everyone looked at each other before returning their attention to me.

“He’s part of our pride?” asked Apollo softly—expectantly.

“He is.”

They all nodded, and a warmth filled my chest at their acceptance. My pride was the best.

Randy came and took the dirty bowl. “Let’s wash this and see what we can make that won’t upset Tim.”

The stalk bounced into the room a moment later wearing one of my T-shirts. It drowned him, hanging off one shoulder as he asked, “Have you tried rhubarb and custard ice cream sandwiches?”

“No, but I wanna.” Gordon went and hooked his arm through Tim’s, dragging him to the counter where the rhubarb stalks I hadn’t gotten around to cooking were spilling out of the bag.

Randy scurried after them. “Show me, too. I wanna try them.”

“Me too,” Drew said. “If it stops you from throwing your rhubarb to the wind.”

Tim turned and used his free arm to slap Drew on the shoulder. “I can’t promise that, but what I can promise is a taste sensation you’re gonna love.” He looked around. “Anyone got a cell phone I can borrow to call Glass to get the recipe? He’s blocked me after,”—he gave them all an innocent smile—“my fifth encore last night.”

“Blocked you?” Apollo paused while pulling out a chair at the table. “Can he hear your thoughts?”

“Of course. It’s a rhubarb thing… or maybe a fruit and veg thing? I believe the fingerlings can communicate with their family this way, too.” He shrugged and the T-shirt slipped a little further down his arm, and a pink nipple peeked over. I fidgeted at the delicious sight, and they all turned to look at me.

Tim’s smile was beatific as he continued. “Though, I’m not sure about that, as I’ve only seen what’s on the news and you can’t always believe them.”

Gordon, who’d let go of Tim’s arm, took an interest in his bare shoulder, and reached to touch the fuzzies.

“Touch him and I’ll have to break your fingers!” I snapped, fangs bared.

Gordon blushed and gave us a look of apology. “Sorry… you know… it’s hard for me to… resist.”

Tim patted Gordon on the arm, giving him a smile that made my lion growl. “Stop that, Maxi. My rhubarb is your rhubarb.” Tim returned his attention to Gordon. “I’ll introduce you to some other stalks,” he winked cheekily, “I know a few that would custard over you.”