"Oh, you're sayin' you would've, though?" It was a quick quip, an easy tease, the back-and-forth of their rapport as comfortable as ever. Tim didn't call on people for favors, as a rule. He preferred to do what needed to be done to handle his own shit. But if he ever did need a favor (and this was the first), it'd be Raylan he called every time.

Easy to tell himself it was because Raylan owed him a few favors by now.

They'd pulled up to Tim's modest apartment building. His hand found the door handle before looking at Raylan. "You want a drink?"

How else did men say thank you in Kentucky besides sharing their bourbon? If there was a way, Tim hadn't learned it yet.