“Damn,” JJ said, a small grin on his face. “Paper beats rock. Guess Hawaii is out.”
“Well, shit, I could’ve totally gotten on board with that,” Cal moaned. “We’ve heard Mustang and his team talk about how awesome it is there often enough.”
Mustang was a fellow Special Forces member they’d worked with in the past. He and his SEAL team had definitely lucked out with that duty station. The last JJ had heard, they were all settling down and starting families.
A pang hit him hard at the thought, harder than he could’ve imagined.
JJ had always wanted a family of his own. A woman he could protect and adore who would love him back just as much. And children . . .
He sighed. At thirty-nine, he was getting too old to think about having babies.
“Okay, Cal and Bob, your turn. On the count of three . . . one, two, three,” JJ ordered.
Cal held up two fingers in the shape of scissors, and Bob’s hand was flat.
“Scissors beat paper,” JJ announced.
“Shit,” Bob grumbled.
“What was your choice?” Chappy asked.
“New York City. Nothing better than the hustle and bustle of the greatest city in the world,” he said fondly.
“Looks like it’s you and me,” JJ told Cal.
His friend’s gaze was unfocused, and the pupil in the eye that wasn’t swollen shut was much larger than it should’ve been, but since there was literally nothing JJ could do right now to help other than take Cal’s mind off where they were for a few minutes, he did his best to hide his concern.
“You’re goin’ down, mate,” Cal teased weakly.
JJ’s lips twitched. They were all super competitive. It was partly why they were such good Special Forces soldiers. They didn’t like to fail. Didn’t like when things didn’t go according to plan.
“Bring it,” he taunted. “On the count of three. One, two, three!”
JJ fisted his hand while Cal held his flat.
“Damn,” JJ said with a sigh.
“I was gonna go rock, but I don’t think I can curl all my fingers,” Cal joked.
It was true, some of his friend’s fingers were mangled and most certainly broken. Hatred for their captors almost overcame JJ, but he forced the feeling down. There would be a time later to let out his anger; for now, he had to keep his cool. His teammates were relying on him to be their anchor.
“I can’t believe we’re letting the one guy who’s not from the US pick where we live,” Bob groaned.
JJ was somewhat amused about that himself, but a deal was a deal, and since Cal won the game, he’d get to decide where the four of them settled. “You win,” JJ told his friend. “My choice was going to be Nashville. So . . . where are we setting up shop, Cal?”
“Maine. There’s a town on the western side of the state, close to the New Hampshire border, called Newton. I saw a newsclip about it once.”
“Are you shitting me?” Bob asked. “Maine? Please tell me Newton is a city.”
Cal grinned. It was lopsided, and the movement made blood drip from his cheek down to his bare chest, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Nope. It’s in the middle of nowhere. I don’t think they even have a stoplight. There’s snow on the ground for six months of the year, and the only place to shop is a Dollar General. The population is tiny, like twelve hundred or so. From what I saw on the clip, it looked like heaven.”
“Fuck me,” Bob groaned. “What the hell are we going to do for a living in a town like that?”
JJ sighed. It was a good question. “I know what we’re not going to do,” he blurted. “Anything to do with security. Or being a bodyguard. Or private investigations. Too many people get out of the military and do that shit anyway. I’ve had enough of guns. Of death. Of putting my life on the line for others. I want to do something . . . normal.”
“I agree,” Chappy said seriously.
“Me too,” Bob said. “But seriously, what will we do? Let’s face it, we aren’t actually qualified to do much more than what we’ve been doing.”
There was silence for a moment before JJ said, “Let’s take some time to think about it. Think about Maine. Think about what you enjoy doing in your spare time—and no laughing. Yes, I realize we haven’t had much spare time, ever. Maybe something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t had the opportunity. Then we’ll Rochambeau again.”
JJ had no idea if they’d actually follow through, if they’d really let a game decide their fate, but the more he thought about moving to Maine, the more the idea appealed. He’d had his fill of mankind. People were endlessly cruel. He and his men knew that firsthand. Too many people were self-centered, entitled, concerned only about themselves, and too willing to shove their beliefs down other people’s throats. With every passing year, there was less tolerance for differences, for accepting people as they were.
JJ was sick of all of it. He’d happily move to a quiet, sleepy little town and eke out a living with his friends, even if it made his dream of starting a family far less likely. Finding a woman who could look beyond what he’d done in the military and love him for who and what he was would be a whole lot harder in the wilds of Maine.
Ten minutes or so went by, and it was Chappy who said, “Are we ready?”
“Let’s do this,” Bob replied firmly.
JJ played Bob in the first round, and Chappy played Cal. Then, it was Chappy and Bob in the final round.
Chappy made a fist and Bob held up two fingers.
“Shit! I never win this stupid game,” Bob griped.
Everyone chuckled.
“So? What’re we doing for the rest of our lives?” JJ asked Chappy.
“Lumberjacks,” he said with a wide grin.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Cal griped.
“Nope,” Chappy said with the same shit-eating grin on his face. “I figure Maine has trees. A lot of them. I’m sure they’re always falling over in people’s yards and on roads and stuff. We can start a tree service. Cutting them down, pulling up stumps, things like that.”
While Bob and Cal groaned, JJ nodded. “The Appalachian Trail is in Maine too. I’m not sure how close it is to Newton. Cal? Do you know? Did the show say?”
“They talked about the ‘AT,’ but I didn’t know what that was,” Cal admitted.
“Awesome. So the trails will need maintenance too. We could be trail maintainers. They’re actually a real thing . . . people who’re responsible for certain sections of a trail. They make sure it’s clear, keep the trail markers maintained, watch over any camps in their area, and generally act as the experts on their particular section,” JJ said.
“You mean we could actually hike without worrying about being stealthy or who might be following, trying to kill our asses?” Bob asked. “I’m in.”
“Maybe we could even hire ourselves out as guides,” Chappy said. “I mean, I’m thinking we probably wouldn’t be busy nonstop with the tree stuff, so we could escort people who’re unsure about the AT or who’d just feel more comfortable having someone familiar with the area leading them.”