Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 2

cold in the morning shadows, but the shock helped push his transformation, just like the lack of oxygen as he held his breath.
    He changed pretty much every morning these days, but it still was an effort, requiring that he relax and just let it flow.
    Soon he was scaly and jetting up the river to the wonderful mud banks that the other crocs basked on during the day. A couple years back, there'd been a harsh winter that had almost wiped out the natural crocs at his old stomping grounds, so he'd moved to the Everglades. He hadn't expected to find so many natural crocodiles in one place, but the wildlife reserve was the best social club he could have hoped for, and after three years of floating around its banks, Craig felt at home.
    Besides, the American Crocodile being on the Threatened Species list or not, Craig was less likely to get shot by poachers in the wildlife reserve. The government and conservationist groups kept the habitat as balanced as they could; there were fences and nets to keep the big boats out of certain areas— he ducked under one to enter the sanctuary, huge body undulating as his short arms and legs tucked against his sides— and the food was plentiful.
    Speaking of, he took a detour to find some tasty fish in the shallows. Mm. Bass. His human grocery bills were practically non-existent.
    His time-sense went a little wonky when he was transformed, so he wasn't surprised to see Grady already puttering around on the service road when he arrived at his basking spot. The other man was a good distance from the banks, digging in the back of a pickup truck.
    Heaving his huge form onto the opposite river bank, Craig settled in to watch, grunting at a couple of the crocs already there. The weather had been unusually warm this year, and the result had been a whacked mating season with some eligible females looking for partners while others were still preparing nests. It had left their little community on edge, and was probably part of the reason Grady was out here earlier than the interns in years past.
    Mm. Grady.
    Craig chuffed contentedly, ignoring the twitches around him. He was the biggest male there so they could suck it if they wanted to get grumpy with him. Nothing was going to distract him from the best view in the Everglades.
    Grady was singing to himself today, snippets of a song Craig didn't recognize. Craig hadn't gotten close enough yet to see the logo on the baseball cap Grady wore every day, but he thought Grady was probably from one of the Florida universities. His wire-rimmed glasses reflected the Florida sunlight through the trees, his T-shirts were usually baggy, but his jeans fit his athletic frame amazingly, and Craig may have tracked his muddy boot prints through the underbrush on a couple occasions. Grady had cooed over a baby crocodile just yesterday, one of the early little ones only a few days out from leaving the nest. Grady was adorable.
    Tripping over his own feet, Grady went down in the tall sawgrass with a curse, work bag flying through the air over his shoulder.
    Craig had also observed that Grady was something of a klutz. Not that Craig could say anything, really.
    Climbing to his feet, Grady started searching the surrounding area for his glasses. A male crocodile further down the river slipped into the water silently, nostrils and eyes just above the surface as he started to swim closer.
    Craig's eyes narrowed, a subvocal rumble starting in his chest. The female nearest him quietly took off into the water, too.
    Grady seemed oblivious to any danger, chiding himself as he found his muddy glasses and tried to clean them off on his T-shirt. Putting them back on, he squinted around him and adjusted his cap.
    "Right," he said with a sigh, futilely trying to wipe off his cute behind. "Water sampling kit. I just had it here..."
    Another female croc went water ninja and Craig had had enough of that. Just as he started to sink back into the river, though, Grady slipped in the mud again, and this time he went head over heels down the slippery bank.
    Right into the water.
    The water full of opportunistic crocodiles.
    Grady needed a keeper, Craig thought as he put on a burst of speed and bellowed a warning. On land, a croc could keep up with an Olympic runner. In the water, there wasn't much hope for their intended prey.
    The first male crocodile had stealthily gotten closer while Grady had searched for his glasses, a deadly vee in the water, and now took his chance.
    Oh hell no,