Maddening Max

Chapter 12: Sister-In-Law

"A perfect relationship isn't perfect, it's just that both people never gave up." - Unknown

Angelik's POV

Max busied himself in the kitchen while I chatted with Sasha Beth. She's now wearing a loose shirt with a picture of a car engine covering the front part of her white shirt and paired it with black legging pants.

I'm glad she decided to cover her pierced belly button before my husband pulled his hair out of frustration. Or his eyeballs turned into one of those googly eyes from rolling it constantly.

One thing he had gotten from me.

Her hair damped, and she didn't bother drying it up as she sat on the couch facing each other.

"I love Italy. The last I was there was when I was 13," I said, grinning like a hungry cat at her. And I was hungry with her stories.

"Italy is beautiful, and the food is good... if you like pasta," she chuckled, rolling her shoulders nonchalantly.

I laughed, "Did you find any cute guys?"

Sasha raised one well defined eyebrow. "Cute?" she reiterated with unveiled aghast, and I bit my bottom lip trying to suppress my amusement. 

The corner of her lips quirked with mirth.  

I forgot that Sasha Beth is not a teenager anymore, and we don't like cute boys. We want a man, and a rough man but sweet inside. 

Like my Max. My maddening Max.

"I love pasta, but not every day," I said, trying to drop the subject as I shook my head, then chuckled.

Sasha laughed, her expressive eyes glinting with mischief.

"Well..." she paused, her slender shoulders rolling again nonchalantly. "Give that pasta a twist each day," her eyebrows wriggled, her lips quirked, amusement all over her beautiful face. "Tortellini on Monday, Spaghetti on Tuesday, Fettuccine on Wednesday..." then, she wriggled her eyebrows, "Manicotti on Thursday, and Maxi on the weekend," she threw me a teasing grin before she broke into waves of laughter.

And when the last words sunk into my brain, I stared at her with my brows furrowing. "Maxi?" I asked in confusion. I haven't heard of Maxi pasta before.

Sasha laughed, and when it occurred to me what she did there, I burst into peals of laughter.

And when we both sobered up, she spoke. "And make sure to cook the way Italian do it. Otherwise, they will come after you," she added, laughing. "But their food is so tasty, you will love it," Sasha hastily backed up.

"Yes, Maxi is really tasty, seasoned or not," I agreed jokingly.

Sasha's laughter echoed in the room, and that's when Max walked in on us.

"Dinner is ready," he announced. Sasha Beth got up, and I followed her. Max was throwing us curious glances, and when Sasha Beth brushed past him, his blue eyes widened a bit, sending me a questioning look, and I shook my head innocently.

His eyes turned into slits, showing displeasure, and I just shrugged my shoulders as I approached him closer and placed my hand around his waist, noting the gray apron he was still wearing.

"Let's go, hubby. I'm starving," I grinned up at him, and he leveled me a stare.

"Your sister is not doing anything," I frowned at him, and he just raised an eyebrow. "Okay, Mr. Mistrustful, let's go so you can start interrogating your sister," I quipped as I rolled my eyes.

"I grew up with her, wifey. She drives us all nuts," Max murmured, disconsolate.

"But you love her all the same," I smiled at him, and he sighed as he let me guide him back to the kitchen.