"They are. Meant for keepin' Roman, while he's in his coma. Or any other trouble that might come up. Thought it might be nice for him to have a place to lay that isn't my bedroom or my living room."

Raylan leads them out onto a small wooden covered porch with its haint blue ceiling and few steps down to the white Caribbean sands that were steadily lapped against by the faux sea that stretched out in front of them. The seating was two chairs and a loveseat with a glass top, round coffee table. Raylan sets the wine down and sits on the left side of the love seat, arm settling over the back so he can drape it over Neal's shoulders when he sits.

"And this," he says, taking and letting a deep breath. "Which is really the prize of it all.."