Love Means_. Freedom - Andrew Grey

he'd done wrong. Immediately he began to bite his lips with worry. Just when things were looking up....
    "You have ID and things?"
"Yes, sir." He fumbled in his coat pocked for his worn wallet.
Geoff stood up again and extended his hand. "Then you have a job if you want it."
    Stone could hardly believe it. Last night he'd almost frozen to death, and today he'd been offered a job on a farm owned by a gay couple. Hesitantly, he extended his hand and they shook.

    "You won't regret it."
    Geoff released his hand and opened the office door. "Eli," Geoff said, and a man got up from the sofa. "This is Stone, and he's going to be working in the barn. He's got experience with horses." Stone alternated his gaze between the two men and relaxed when he saw the pleased look on Eli's face. "I believe you already know Robbie. He's my able assistant and our resident musician."
    "That was you last night? I thought I was dreaming, it was so beautiful."
Robbie beamed at him. "Thank you." Stone watched as Robbie appeared to listen before turning toward Geoff. "Can I get started?" "Certainly. I printed out what you'll need and it's on the embosser." Robbie smiled and made his way carefully into the office, closing the door. "Is he"--Stone's voice lowered to a whisper--"gay too?"
    He saw Geoff smile. "Yes. His partner Joey is out working, which is where we should be as well." Geoff looked down at his feet. "You'll need warmer boots and some thicker clothes."

    "I'll find him some," Eli said before heading upstairs.
    "I need to help Robbie. Eli will be right back down and we'll take you out so you can meet everyone else and get started." Geoff opened the office door, leaving Stone alone in the living room. Not knowing what else to do, he peered out the window. The snow from yesterday had stopped and the day was bright and clear. He could hardly believe his luck. He'd happened upon a farm owned by gay people in the middle of a snowstorm, and they'd offered him a job in addition to having kept him from freezing to death. Maybe, just maybe, his luck was changing.
    Footsteps on the stairs broke him out of his thoughts.

    "TAKE it easy. You shouldn't overdo it," the therapist warned as he watched Preston maneuvering himself between the bars.
    "I want to walk!" Preston yelled as he gritted his teeth. "The fucking doctor said I'd never walk again," he grunted as he forced his legs to work. "I intend to walk up to that asshole and shake his hand," he said as he moved again, "or punch the fucker's face!" He reached the end and turned around, collapsing into the wheelchair. "I do intend to walk again." He looked at the therapist and grinned, saying, "Sorry, Jasper, I didn't mean to take it out on you." The anger and frustration slipped away as he wheeled himself toward the door. "I just want this so badly."
    "I know you do, and so do I, but injuring yourself isn't going to make it happen faster."
Jasper held the door open. "You've come a long way in a short time."
"Not far enough." Preston was determined and naturally impatient.
    "Pres," his physical therapist and friend began, "your muscles are just now starting to get the blood they need to function. Sometimes you need to let things progress on their own, and they just won't be rushed."

    Preston whipped the chair around. "I thought therapists were supposed to be sadistic." A huge grin broke onto his face. "I may be a sadistic therapist, but I'm also your friend. I want you to walk again; I just don't want you to hurt yourself doing it." Jasper led the way back into the lobby where Preston's mother was waiting for him.
    Preston hated that at twenty-six, he was back living with his parents and dependent upon them again. A drunk driver had not only taken away the use of his legs but also his freedom, and he was determined above all else to get it back. Feeling had returned, and after numerous surgeries, some movement had returned. As soon as he could lift his legs, he'd started exercising when no one was around. "I'm ready to go, Mom."
    "Okay, honey." She got to her feet and walked over to him, stepping behind the chair to push Preston to the car.
    "I don't need any help," he snapped. She handed him his coat, and he shrugged it on before gripping the wheels and propelling himself forward, the doors opening automatically in front of him. "I just need to do things for myself." He jetted through the parking lot, stopping near the car and waiting for her to unlock the doors. Positioning the chair near