Trace barely got the question out when two of the bar’s bouncers came rushing toward them.
“Enough!” the bigger of the two yelled.
Because he knew these guys were just doing their job, Trace allowed himself to be pulled back up to his feet and ushered out the door. Several steps in front of him, the prick who’d started the whole scene was being tossed on his ass in the street near the curb.
While a few heated words were being exchanged between that guy and the bouncer dealing with him, Trace quickly explained his side to the man who’d just kickedhisass out.
“Look, man. I was just trying to watch out for two women who are too inebriated to look out for themselves. For some reason, that guy thought it would be a good idea to start shit.”
Next time, remember...it’s not your fucking problem!
“I saw him take the first swing.” The bouncer nodded. “The prick was totally out of line.”
Well, that helped.
“Good. Here.” Trace pulled out his wallet and handed the man three twenties. “One of those will cover my last drink plus a tip. The other two are for you and your buddy.”
“Thanks, man.” The bouncer fisted the cash. “That was an impressive takedown, by the way.” His gaze fell on the Delta Force tattoo peeking out from the bottom of Trace’s left sleeve. “You military?”
Trace dipped his chin. “Used to be.”
Admiration filled the bouncer’s eyes. “You see a lot of action?”
Flashes of memories he’d give anything to forget tried to burst through. Thankfully, Trace had become a master at forcing them away.
With a casual shrug, he said, “Found my fair share, I guess.”
“Found it, hell. This guy ran right into the middle of it.”
A familiar voice reached his ears. One that belonged in the past...not in this moment. And sure as hell, not in fucking Nashville, Tennessee.
What the...
Jerking his head to the side, Trace found himself staring at a man he hadn’t seen in years. A man who’d been right beside him all those times hehadjumped into the thick of things.
A man who’d always had his back.
“McQueen?” He blinked in surprise.
Jake McQueen, his former Delta Force teammate and friend offered Trace his hand. “Just can’t stay outta trouble, can you, Winters? I guess some things never change.”
“Gotta keep things interesting.” Trace took the man’s hand and was instantly pulled forward for a half-hug and a few slaps on the back. “What brings you here? You on vacation or something?”
“Actually”—Jake pulled away—“I was looking for you.”
“Me?” Trace blinked against his secondwhat the fuckmoment in under a minute. “Why?”
And how the hell did the guy even know where to find him?
“I got something I wanted to discuss.” The other man shrugged. “Figured it was best to do it in person.”
Well, shit. Ifthatdidn’t sound ominous...
“Is it one of the guys?” Trace dreaded the thought of something happening to any of the men they used to serve with.
“No, it’s nothing like that. This is a good thing.” Jake glanced up and down the street. “There a place we can talk? Preferably somewhere a little less crowded?”
“My hotel’s a couple blocks from here.”