Raylan nods. "Dinner it is." It would be something more elevated than fried chicken. He wasn't sure what yet, but he'd figure it out.

"Fake it until you make it but you fell in love." It was cute really. "I'm afraid my only real engagement with it is white women book clubs that I wasn't allowed to be at. Wasn't quite at box wine level, but they hit it hard. Nothin' like passion." Passion looked good on Neal. Made his eyes shine with a brightness that felt like it would light up the whole room.

"So is that the same for everythin' you were forgin'? Just seein' if you could achieve the same result?" Had Neal ever made wine?