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She turned in his arms, draping her own arms around his neck and lifting her face expectantly. Instead of the kiss she anticipated, he pressed his forehead against hers, his nose nuzzling her own gently. His face was lost in the shadows of the tent, but she fancied she could feel his gaze on her.His breath caught in the way that it would if he was about to speak, but after a brief pause, in which he said nothing, he shifted and pressed his soft lips against her own instead. She gasped in surprise, but arched against him and returned the kiss in kind when his tongue flicked across her lips teasingly. Her tongue sought his, her fingers wove into his still-damp hair, and she gave herself up to the feel of him, his hands stroking her back, his taste in her mouth, his hard body pressed against her from knees to shoulders. He groaned softly as she fisted her hands, using his long, silky hair to pull him closer.When he released her lips to shift his attention to the long expanse of her. A few minutes later the older man turned back to us and said, 'You know, I don't think he's coming back!'" Suzanne burst into laughter, and Maggie joined her. Whatever she thought of Suzanne, it felt good to laugh just before heading out into the restaurant in their silly colonial attire for the busy dinner shift, which they both now did. Maggie loved the opulent restaurant and didn't even really dislike her uniform. But it was a stern reminder that she was stuck back in this town she'd escaped the summer after seventh grade, and which she'd never wanted to see again, and that she wouldn't be getting out until she'd saved up some money, and that the others just might figure out who she was before that could happen. So it always felt good to start each shift on a cheerful note. Maggie and Suzanne were still laughing at her story when they got out to the as-yet deserted dining room, where Linda, Sarah, and Richanda were busy setting the tables. "What's tickling you two?" Richanda.
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