Crazy in Chicago by Norah-Jean Perkin Read Free Book Online Page A

he’d been for six weeks, dammit. Six weeks of his life had been stolen, and he wanted them back.
    Bitterness flooded through him. He blinked. He hadn’t realized before just how resentful his disappearance had made him.
    â€œBut the police? Didn’t they come up with anything?”  
    The concern in Roberta’s voice pulled him back to the present. He looked up, surprised to see tenderness shimmering in her eyes. Outside of a purely professional concern, it had been a long time since anyone outside his immediate family had cared about him, or he had cared that they did. His reluctance to speak faded.
    â€œWell, the cops found my car by the roadside, supposedly the day after I disappeared. There were no signs of violence and nothing had been stolen. Eventually, in the absence of any clues, the paper consulted a psychic. The best she could come up with was that I was in a strange, cold place. But if you read the stories, you already know that.”  
    He halted abruptly. His stomach had started to roil, and a damp chill slid down his spine, signs he now recognized as the first warnings of the debilitating nausea that had been sweeping over him for days.
    He stood up and walked over to the parapet, hoping to circumvent the attack. But it was too late. He gripped the railing like a life raft as waves of nausea assaulted him. He took deep gulps of air. Finally, after about forty seconds, the sickness passed.
    He sighed in relief. As he breathed in again, the comforting heat of another body infiltrated his senses. Roberta’s bare arm brushed his arm, and she closed her hand over his. She squeezed it gently, and gazed up at him.
    â€œI’m sorry if my questions upset you. It must be awful to be missing for such a long time and have no idea where you were or what you were doing. I can’t even imagine how that would feel.”
    Cody remained silent, letting the equal comfort of her words and the heat of her hand seep into him. Finally he spoke. “It’s all right. It’s natural that you’d want to know. Most people do.
    â€œBut you’re right. It is awful not knowing. I think this is the first time I realized just how much I resent not knowing. Not knowing where I was or why. Not knowing why I was wearing the same clothes I disappeared in, and yet they didn’t seem the least bit worn or dirty. Not knowing why my hair seemed the same length, or why I had only one day’s growth of beard after six weeks. Not knowing anything!”
    He shook his head, fighting off the nausea that seemed to be hovering just outside him, waiting for a chance to assault him yet again. She squeezed his hand and he smiled, momentarily forgetting the struggle.
    â€œIt’s all pretty strange,” she said.
    â€œYes. Strange that the doctors could find nothing wrong with me, no evidence of drugs or foreign bodies, and yet I had changed in some very basic ways. For example, I used to be a slob. Not untidy. A slob. But not any more. Ever since my return, I can’t abide messes.”
    â€œMaybe you just matured,” offered Roberta.
    Cody snorted and his smile grew more deprecating. “And you may have read that I was, to put it kindly, something of a womanizer. Now, well, I haven’t been out with a woman for a year. Even worse, I haven’t been the least bit interested in starting anything up.”
    But I am now! The thought hit with absolute certainty. He raised his eyes to Roberta’s, and read the question shimmering in the deep blue depths, a question he neither wanted to nor could ignore. Deliberately he clasped her hand between both of his. He drew the rough pads of his fingers along the smooth silkiness of her skin. Slowly he tilted his head, intent on capturing her sweet lips and exploring the attraction between them.
    His mouth brushed hers. She trembled. Encouraged, he pressed forward, slanting his lips over hers for more of her sweet taste. Warm and