Her Best Friend's Brother by T. Dell (read the beginning after the end novel .TXT) 📕

When Tony’s fingers slipped between the waist of her shorts and the hem of her tee shirt, digging momentarily into the bare skin at her waist, Libby lurched in reaction.

Tumbling forward Libby inevitably took Tony down with her.

His arms wrapped around her in an effort to absorb most of their fal, but realy only served to lock them together when they hit the ground. Tony’s face fel into the curve of her shoulder; his body aligned perfectly with hers.

Lavender assaulted his senses, and for just a moment, or maybe two moments, Tony wished they weren’t in a public park surrounded by his family. “Are you okay?” He asked staring down into her eyes.

“Nothing wounded but my pride.” Libby was blushing scarlet. Tony roled quickly away before the sight of her flushed beneath him could cause a problem.

By the time they untangled themselves the winners (An aunt and uncle Libby didn’t recognize) were doing a mildly obnoxious victory dance. The Marchetti’s realy were very competitive.

“Gee I hope you guys do better in the water baloon toss!” Mel was waving from the sidelines with John standing behind her both hands wrapped around her waist.

As Tony had predicted they had shown up wel over an hour late. Libby was glad Tony had offered to bring her or she would have missed a big chunk of the party.

“Hey sis, John.” Tony walked over to hug his sister, and shake his future brother-in-law’s hand. “Are you going to join us in the water baloon toss?”

“No. Way.” Mel exclaimed. “I wore white.” She explained in a loud whisper.

“Where do we sign up?” John waggled his eyebrows in a way that Libby supposed he thought was sexy—it was actualy a little gross.

“John!” Mel swatted at him playfuly, and in return he swung her over his shoulder fireman style.

“Those two should come with an adult content warning.” Libby shook her head at them.

“Singing to choir Lib. Remember she’s my sister!” Tony made a retching motion with a finger down his throat.

The four of them watched the rest of the games for a while. Cheering for Nick when he came in first place in horse shoes, and for John in the relay race (even though John didn’t do particularly wel).

In the water baloon toss teams of two stood across from each other tossing a water baloon back and forth. If the baloon broke you were out, and if it stayed intact you took a step back and tried again. Tony may not have been enthusiastic about the games, but he was just as competitive as the rest of his family. Right up until the start whistle blew he was muttering instructions to her. “Soft hands, don’t he was muttering instructions to her. “Soft hands, don’t squeeze, throw under hand…” It was extremely annoying, and Libby clapped along with the rest of the crowd when Tony burst their baloon in the third round.

“So much for soft hands! Libby yeled to him as he peeled off his now wet tee shirt. Libby had to remind herself that she was no longer in love with Tony. Because if she had stil been in love with him the sight of him elbowing his way out of that shirt, and the sunshine gleaming off his very wel defined chest would have been enough to make her swoon. In retaliation to her taunting Tony stole his neighbor’s water baloon and beamed Libby in the back with it. This of course resulted in water baloon anarchy, and soon there wasn’t a dry Marchetti in sight.

Tony produced a picnic blanket from somewhere and laid it out on the ground. Libby stretched out on her stomach, letting the sun dry her shirt. Good thing she hadn’t been wearing white. They lay there quietly for awhile. This was one of the things Libby loved about her friendship with Tony. They never felt a need to fil silence. When they did talk Tony asked her opinion on a few story ideas, and then Libby showed Tony how to make poppers out of dandelions. By the time the cal went out for tug-of-war they were both dry and dressed again.

Tug of war was always men against women. You would think that would be unfair. But the Marchetti’s were very heavy on the estrogen and the girls’ team easily doubled the number on the boys’ side. Park regulations kept them from digging a traditional mud pit in the middle of the rope. But they had instead filed an inflatable kiddie pool with what looked like whipped cream. Where would someone purchase that much whipped cream? Geez these people did take their games seriously. Libby made a mental note to remember to bring a change of clothes next year.

And then she made a mental note, to remember that she probably wouldn’t be there next year since Tony was not her date. The men did win, but Libby managed to stay clear of the whipped cream—so it was a personal victory in light of a team loss.

“Are you sure you want to skip the pie?” Tony asked her after they had finished lunch.

“Positive. A lady does not consume multiple pies in one sitting.”

Tony pictured her for a moment with fruit and whipped cream smeared across her mouth. It was a damn shame that Libby was a lady. “Okay, wel then let’s go watch at least. Nick’s pretty good. He’s my bet.”

“I would take that bet. You forget I have seen John eat. The year Mel burnt the turkey? John must have polished off three pies… and that was just for fun. Now his reputation is at stake!”

“You’re on.” Tony leaned against a post in the pavilion. There were no chairs left so he tugged Libby’s back into his chest and settled his hands at her hips. So much better than chairs. “What would you like to bet McKay?”

“Cookies?” Libby suggested wondering if her voice sounded normal.

“Nah. Mine stil suck; I would be too humiliated to pay up if I lost. I tel you what—we’l