Big Gator: A BBW shape shifter paranormal romance (6 page)

             
A
number of shifters in the county had political connections, so
Marianne was able to obtain a special license under the Gator Rescue
statute that allowed her to keep gators onsite up until they were
about 4 feet long.  That meant they were sub-adults and had not
yet reached maturity and could not yet procreate.  She was
supposed to release the gators into the wild before then, as far as
the state of Florida was concerned.

             
This
gave her a bit of a challenge, since she needed real gators to
release.  So, she kept some normal hatchlings onsite at all
times, being VERY careful not to mix them up with the shifter
hatchlings, and so then she had some real alligators to set free for
state inspectors to see.

             
All
the “children” would be shifting into human form for the first
time when they should be at the late stage of being toddlers, and
this was a bit traumatic.  If this type of shifter – what the
community called “Hatchers”– got past the physical trauma of
becoming human at such a young age, then they had to assimilate and
play catch up – learning to walk and talk and all that. 

             
Because
of this late start in life, many Hatchers were not exactly what one
would call well-adjusted, nor were they the smartest people on the
planet.  They were still smarter than regular gators, though.

             
Mainstream
shifters were all those who are born human.  Being born human
and experiencing a shift during adolescence also was challenging, but
there was more time to prepare, and one's child was more mentally
ready for the event. Once these children were around 10 years old,
his or her parents would shift and take them out swimming with them
in the Glades, so they could start to get used to reptilian life.

             
Marianne
took the name and phone number of Ray's cousin.  She would
initiate contact, because she knew how stressful and embarrassing
these circumstances could be.  His sister's boyfriend was
guaranteed to walk away from the situation.  

             
When
shifters married and mated as humans, the fathers usually stuck
around. 

             
If
they mated during a shift, then they behaved like typical male
gators.  They swam away. 

             
It
was instinct.  It was shitty, but it was biology.  Blame it
on Madame LaBelle.

Chapter 7

             
Brandy
exfoliated herself the next morning, per usual, while feeling
horribly hungover.

             
She
brushed and brushed until her body brush almost lost all its
bristles.  Sometimes after a night of drinking, she got really
dehydrated, which did not help her perpetual state of reptilian
eczema.

             
She
took a quick shower, rubbed herself with coconut oil, and popped a
couple of ibuprofen.  She couldn't even think of eating
breakfast right now. She had a plan, and she needed to pull herself
together.

             
An
hour later, her stomach felt less queasy and she decided she could
scramble herself up some eggs. Then she made herself presentable and
took a trip back to Animal Sphere.

             
She
drove this time.  She also brought her resume, which really
wasn't much, but it showed she had taken biology classes at the local
community college and that she had worked at Marianne's Gator Rescue
non-profit. That should be worth something.  She was hoping to
get a job that would involve doing a little more than shoveling gator
shit.

             
Also,
she had to see McEvans again.  Even though he had no idea about
gator shifters, her time with him had been the best two weeks of her
life (aside from the Cliburn ambush, of course).  And clearly he
missed her, too, given the sizable reward he was offering for her
return, although he wouldn't recognize her in human form.  She
hadn't worked out all the details yet, but she felt that at the very
least they could have a good working relationship, and it was time
she start pursuing her dreams of becoming a herpetologist (sans
herpes).

             
She
decided she would first buy a ticket and watch his live gator
wrestling show, to get the audience's perspective.  When she saw
McEvans again, he was clipping on a cordless microphone to the lapel
of his shirt and welcoming everyone to Animal Sphere.  As she
sat there in the bleachers, Brandy knew there was no way she could
want just a working relationship with him. 

             
Brandy
was hopelessly in love, and she had been since the day he found her
in Miami, but she would take what she could get if that meant she
could convince him to give her a job.

             
McEvans
was stunning to behold on stage.  As he stood before the
audience, he looked like he had returned fresh from an African Safari
or had just flown in from the Australian Outback. 

             
His
smile was slightly crooked in a devilish way, but with straight white
teeth that gleamed just enough to be clean, not bleached. The buttons
of his khaki shirt threatened to pop under the strain of what had to
be a pair of fantastic pectorals and overworked abs.  His
shoulders were broad, his forearms indicative of a physically active
job, and his glutes and thighs were positively strong enough to hike
to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro.

             
Brandy
especially approved of McEvan's calves, which were well-muscled –
not spindly like she saw on a lot of men who didn't know how to work
out for real at the gym.  Brandy had come to believe – with
good reason and experience – that a man's calves said a lot about
the rest of the man.

             
Brandy
started fanning herself with the Animal Sphere brochure that she held
in her left hand.  It wasn't because of the Florida heat.

             
Meanwhile,
the alligator that McEvans was trying to deal with was not being
cooperative.  She could see why McEvans missed her.

             
Brandy
had managed to get a seat in the front row, since she was there
alone, and there's always some straggler seat with a good view if
you're alone or if you are in a group that is willing to split up.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rachel.  There was no
mistaking her.  She, too, was watching the show.  Brandy
decided to take a chance on something.

             
She
slipped out of her seat and headed over to Rachel.

             “
I've
got a tip on Shirley,” she told her, “but I don't need the
reward.”

             
So
after the show, Rachel introduced Brandy to McEvans.

             
He
was not in a good mood. Brandy could understand why. A dumb gator in
theory is easier for a gator wrestler to dominate, but let's face it,
all serious gator wrestlers like a good challenge. Brandy/Shirley had
been the right mix of challenge and stage partner – something he
would never have experienced before.

             
When
McEvans first set eyes on Brandy, his first thought was,
Wow,
that's a lotta woman
.
His second thought that she looked to be a bit of a redneck, which –
in the world of gator wrestling – wasn't really a bad thing. But he
was pretty doubtful about the idea that Brandy could help him find
'Shirley'.  Yet, for some reason, he found himself unable to
just brush her off so easily.

             “
I
don't mean to be impolite,” he said, “but we've had a lot of
folks trying to collect the reward, trying to pass off the wrong
gator as Shirley.  Some of these gators are impressive in size,
but there's no mistaking Shirley for anyone else.”

             “
I
told your girlfriend that I don't need the reward,” Brandy said.

             
They
were in McEvan's studio office now, and his administrative assistant
brought them both coffee.

             
He
gazed at Brandy for a second, sizing her up.  Their eyes met and
then broke off, after taking a little bit longer than was
appropriate.

             
McEvans
was aware that he had been staring.

             “
I'm
sorry, but you remind me of someone,” he said.  “What was
your last name again?”

             “
Guyette,”
she said.

             
Brandy
was feeling a little nervous now, because she could feel a palpable
mutual connection here between them, for some crazy reason, even
though she was in human form.

             “
What
makes you so sure that you have an idea where Shirley is and that you
can track her down?”

             
Brandy
took a breath.  There was no way this would sound good to
someone who wasn't a shifter, but it was the only plausible
explanation she could come up with.

             “
I've
been around gators since I was a kid,” she said. “My parents,
believe it or not, used to take me swimming with them starting when I
was about 10 years old.”

             
McEvans
was momentarily dumbstruck. 

             “
They
did?”

             “
Yes
sir.”

             “
Well,
uh, that's not exactly the, uh...smartest thing.”  He was
choosing his words carefully.  Inside, he was screaming
What
the hell kind of trailer trash parents throw their kid into
alligator-infested waters??!!

             “
It's
an old Seminole thing,” Brandy lied.
 
No,
it was a shifter thing.

             
She
felt pretty uncomfortable here, very aware that he was staring at her
like he felt sorry for her abusive upbringing.  So she tried to
keep explaining.

             “
Seminoles
invented gator wrestling, don't forget,”  Brandy said.
That
much was true.
“
And
letting your kids swim with gators is safer than you think,” she
added.
 
Not
true at all.

             
The
wheels of McEvan's mind were turning rapidly now as he pondered the
implausibility that Brandy swam around with alligators like she was
hanging out with friends in a jacuzzi.

             
For
a woman who goes swimming with alligators for fun, she's not missing
any limbs and she seems to have all her fingers.  And, her toes
too – since she's wearing sandals. Go figure,
McEvans
thought.

             
“
And
what does this have to do with Shirley?” he asked.

             “
I've
gone swimming with her a couple of times, I'm pretty sure,” she
said.
 
That
was sort of true, if she had a split-personality.

             
McEvan's
eyes widened.

             “
How
can you be sure?”

             “
Well,
because she's 13-feet long – she's HUGE,” Brandy said. “Plus
she's really smart, and she seems to like people. So I tried calling
her by her name – and she actually swam to me.  But then she
took off after she got bored.”