"Wild Horses" slowed everyone down again and
threw them into each
other's arms. Marty's bristling curls may have had a certain resemblance to
a brillo pad, but they were soft to the touch, as Lyssa discovered when she
linked her arms around his neck. Taking courage from the Oregon wine
she had consumed, she wound one of the locks at the nape of his neck
around her finger, and Marty's hands began to stray tenderly down her
back. Lyssa felt like she was in college.
Roxana watched the proceedings with a sardonic look. "Finally," she pronounced.