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Quietly, we made our way back through the woods and up to the cabin, me leading the way. Ryan’s steps were fairly in tune with mine and once again, I found peace in these woods.
The silence continued until we were both up the stairs and I was pushing through the door.
“You want to go into town for dinner?” Ryan asked.
“I really hadn’t been planning on spending much money outside of the essentials,” I said honestly. “I grabbed some Ready Pasta at the grocery store and was just going to cook that up and make buttered noodles for dinner tonight and tomorrow.”
“Who eats buttered noodles?” Ryan shut the door and followed me into the kitchen area.
“Um, a lot of people.” I frowned at him. “Who doesn’t eat buttered noodles? Add a dash of Italian seasonings and, viola. Excellence in a dish.”
“More like bland in a dish. Let me take you to dinner. I am in dire need of real food. I haven’t eaten out at all this week, and you being here calls for celebration.”
“Now you’re just making things up.”
“Hey,” he held his hands out, “I’ll call it whatever to get a full-course meal.”
“Fine. But I’m eating buttered noodles tomorrow. For lunch and dinner.”
He made a gagging face, but agreed.
