[[ lexington, kentucky ]]

[itwasjustified]

[ "you do realize you're pokin' fun at the man who's supposed to explain box trifectas to you tomorrow, don't you?" ]

He's still in jeans and cowboy boots, but Raylan's dressed a little less casually this morning -- instead of a T-shirt and well-worn flannel, he's in a checkered button-down, tie, and sportcoat, Stetson ever-present on his head.

Double-checking the room number, he tucks the paper bag he's carrying beneath his other arm before he knocks on Dani's door.

(Nestled inside are muffins from the best bakery in town, and beneath those, a box of granola bars from Whole Foods -- he couldn't resist after a particular bit of conversation yesterday.)

When she opens the door, she'll find him carefully transferring the bag back to his free hand while he balances two coffees in a travel tray.

Comments

[notenlightened]

"Maybe more than maybe."

[itwasjustified]

"Maybe."

He shakes his head, smiling down at her.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're enjoying this."

[notenlightened]

Her own smile begins to mirror his as she glances upward.

"What gave it away?"

[itwasjustified]

"Well, you haven't thrown me out yet."

[notenlightened]

"You brought me coffee."

Her fingertips brush against his palm, the one that isn't currently holding onto his hat.

"That earns you an hour, at least."

[itwasjustified]

"And breakfast."

He spares a quick glance toward the food on the table.

"Sort of."

[notenlightened]

She withdraws, fingers curving in against her leg.

"It was sweet."

[itwasjustified]

"Maybe -- maybe -- if I'm lucky," he says, reaching out to give her wrist a reassuring squeeze, "you don't mind sweet."

[notenlightened]

"Maybe, maybe - "

Her hand turns to catch him, briefly, fingertips snagging his.

"- you're luckier than you think."

[itwasjustified]

"Maybe I am."

His fingers curl around hers.

"But you'll never forgive me if we miss first post at Keeneland."

The first race isn't until one o'clock, but squeezing in a visit to the Kentucky Horse Park and its International Museum of the Horse beforehand is all part of the experience.

[notenlightened]

"I bet you could find a way to make it up to me."

She smiles, her hand lingering there for another moment until she remembers her coffee and reaches out for it to bring it along.

"But you're right, we should probably head out."

[itwasjustified]

With a nod, he replaces his hat.

"You see that?"

He's grinning crookedly as he puts the untouched muffins back in the bag and reaches for his own coffee.

"That was flirtin'."

[notenlightened]

"Mmm."

She finishes her coffee in a few successive sips, tossing the empty cup into the trash.

"Good thing I had you around to tell me."

[itwasjustified]

The meager remains of his muffin join Reese's cup in the trash.

"Oh, so that's why you like me."

[notenlightened]

That gets him a scoff. She blocks his way to the front door.

"Who said anything about 'like'?"

[itwasjustified]

He stops short.

" -- tolerate?"

[notenlightened]

"That might be pushing it."

Despite her words, her voice is soft. Maybe even bordering on gentle.

[itwasjustified]

"Allow, then."

[notenlightened]

"Indulge, at best."

[itwasjustified]

His smile widens.

"Indulge," he repeats, stepping closer.

"Then if you'll indulge me, Detective Reese, I'd very much like to get the door for you."

[notenlightened]

"I won't stop you, Marshal," she promises, and shifts back to grab her jacket and shades, leaving the doorway clear for him.

[itwasjustified]

"Thank you."

He's mostly kidding, staying well within the lines of this easy back-and-forth, but there's sincerity underscoring the words.

Two strides, and he's holding open the door.

[notenlightened]

She perches the aviators on top of her head, slipping her arms through the sleeves of her jacket as she walks on through.

"Don't mention it."