Julian’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat.‘I want more footage.’
‘You can get more.Just not here.Leave the lady be with her nest.She’s a mother who needs to feel her babies are safe.And having us nearby will not do her stress levels any good.’
Romy didn’t even think of that, but it made perfect sense.‘That’s so nice.’
‘Look, I’ll fly low over the river on the way back to the pub.If we time it right, we’ll make it back for the mid-morning happy hour.’Stone started walking again.
Romy followed his sturdy stride, her camera zooming in on that amazing denim butt of his.‘Will we see more crocodiles?’
‘You’ll find lots of swamp puppies who’ll eagerly roll over in the river for your B-roll.’
‘We had a deal!’ Julian’s screech sent a flock of hidden emerald-green doves to scatter from the underbrush.
Stone gently put the boxy cooler down and coldly glared at Julian.‘Wisdom must really struggle to catch up to you.Or are you just two sandwiches shy of a picnic?’
Romy bit on her lip to stop her laugh, but she never stopped filming.
Julian scurried behind Romy.‘Tell him, Romy.We hiredhimso we can film my documentary!’
‘I’m siding with Stone about us leaving.’She understood it was for the crocodile’s wellbeing, not theirs.
‘As the producer, I’m paying for all of this.’Julian waved at the vast scenery.‘Remember, we’re on a deadline.’
‘It’s impossible to film a documentary in one day, Julian.’Over the top of her camera, Romy arched an eyebrow at the man producing this gig.‘Documentaries take weeks, some take years depending on your goals.’
‘I have a ten-day deadline to have this documentary filmed, edited, and submitted if I’m to get my grant.We have little time.And he’s—’
‘You mean me?’Stone tapped on his chest.‘The full-time sweetheart, and part-time crocodile wrangler who can hear everything you’re saying.’
Again, Romy pressed her lips together to stop her laugh.
‘I’ll give you the worst review—’
‘On what?’Stone casually shrugged off Julian’s rant.‘I don’t have a website for you to leave a review.Remember, you found me in the pub.’
Julian defiantly raised his nose in the air, his voice pitchy.‘Are you saying you don’t have a tour operator’s licence?’
‘I do.’Stone glared at Julian.‘Now I remember why I rarely use it.’
‘Do you have a licence for hunting crocodile eggs?’
‘Mate, it sits with the rest of the licences I keep in the Weet-Bix box on the kitchen counter back home.’
This time Romy couldn’t stop the giggle, ignoring Julian’s frown.
But the sly cheeky wink from the deeply tanned crocodile wrangler made her heart do cartwheels.Her camera lens just couldn’t get enough of this guy.
‘I want more drama,’ demanded Julian.
‘Well, hell, I’d consider this a bit of drama, wouldn’t you, mate?’
‘Action.’
‘How about I slip you into some rope and swing you over a crocodile nest like bait?How’s that for some drama?’
‘I paid you!’
‘You paid me to show you how we find crocodile eggs in the wild.We did that.’Stone pointed back to the river.
