Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 2

Craig thought and snapped at the upstart. Dude had gotten territorial on Craig before, so he was just returning the favor.
    Over the splashing water, he thought he heard Grady make a frightened noise, a little shriek, and Craig lunged in time to head off a hungry female high-tailing it up the bank. Bumping Grady with his wide hips, Craig intended to nudge the poor guy up far enough in the mud to get some traction while he dealt with the last croc.
    Unfortunately for Grady, Craig was also something of a klutz and in crocodile form that translated to about two hundred and forty pounds of clumsy. So instead of a boost to dry grassland, Grady was launched a good ten feet through the air, all flailing legs and squeaky noises.
    Oops.
    So Craig put the smack down on the remaining croc who thought a Grady Sandwich was on the lunch menu, before worrying about the pain-filled panicked noises behind him. He turned to find Grady trying to pull himself through the grass back to his truck, right leg dragging behind him.
    Well, crap. Craig had been hoping for a coffee date, not to maim the guy. He scooted closer, moving slowly on purpose so Grady wouldn't think he was a threat, but apparently the damage had already been done.
    "Shoo! Shoo!" Grady started yelling, flinging wet clods of dirt and rocks at Craig's head, anything he could get a hold of around him. "Bad crocodile! Shoo!"
    Craig grunted as a pebble bounced off his protective eyelid. It kind of hurt like a motherfucker, but he didn't want to upset Grady more by thrashing his tail.
    Then the water sampling kit hit him square between the eyes, clipping him in the nostrils in the process, and that was the final straw. He roared as he involuntarily transformed, standing unsteadily on his feet in the squishy bank.
    Swaying, he cupped his injured nose with his hands without thinking, squishing a handful of mud in his own face. It dribbled on his chin, and he was covered from neck to toes with a thick coating, so he couldn't exactly wipe it off on his shoulder. He'd have to wait for it to dry.
    Shaking his hands didn't seem to clear them off. He spit hard, trying to at least clean his lips, and chuckled. This was ridiculous.
    He'd gotten injured in croc fights before and hadn't transformed, but that was all animal instinct and little thought. He hadn't lost his focus like this since he'd hit puberty. Gingerly, he pinched his hurt nose again with muddy fingers.
    "Oh. My. God."
    Craig looked up in time to watch Grady faint dead away.
    "Shit," he said in the silence that followed.
    Cautiously approaching Grady, Craig looked over his shoulder to the river. The other crocs had headed for less-contested grounds and that suited him just fine, but there was no guarantee that they'd stay gone for long. They wouldn't generally bother him, even as a human, but having a normal human around might be enough to cause trouble.
    He nudged Grady with a muck-covered toe. The other man was completely drenched, with wet sawgrass and algae in his hair and river mud all over his arms and legs from climbing up the bank. Grady murmured, eyes still closed, and frowned as Craig poked him another time. He'd lost his glasses again.
    This wasn't optimal at all, Craig thought with a sigh and scratched at his hair. It always felt itchy when he was in human form.
    Well, he couldn't call for help on Grady's truck radio. There would be no way for him to escape. He wouldn't be able to change back to a croc for another couple hours, unless he ate a steak or something first. It just took too much energy. But he couldn't leave Grady out here if he was injured. What if his leg was broken? It would suck if Craig saved him just to leave him for the crocs to come back, or, like, a python. Or raccoons. Craig hated those damn raccoons.
    He could always take him back to the houseboat. Probably. But that would mean moving it afterwards. Finding a quiet mooring spot near the reserve with good morning shade was always a pain in the ass.
    There was also leaving him locked in the truck cabin, if Grady hadn't lost the keys in the scuffle.
    He poked Grady again. The other man seemed so small. Craig thought he'd be taller, but he couldn't have been more than five foot eight.
    "Wha—" Grady blinked awake, gasping and flailing. "What?"
    Craig stared down at him for a long moment, realizing he was looming. "Um. Hi?"
    "You—" Grady licked his lips dryly and swallowed, then grimaced at the muck on his face. He said groggily, "You were