Crazy In Love: A Standalone Christmas Thriller Read online

  Crazy In Love

  By Ivy Smoak

  Copyright 2020 Ivy Smoak

  All Rights Reserved

  To all the Hallmark Christmas movies I’ve watched.

  This is nothing like them.

  You’ve been warned.

  CONTENTS

  Title

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  A Note From Ivy

  Chapter 1

  Friday

  I gave everything to my husband. My heart. My soul. My bank accounts. And piece by piece he took it all until our lives were so intertwined that there was no escape. It was a great plan. To diminish me to nothing without him. To make me feel like there was no out. There was just one problem with his plan. He had a secret. A secret that was about to tip the scales back in my favor.

  The hotel doors slid open as I approached. How many times had I dressed like this on a cold winter night? Thigh-high black boots that did nothing to warm me when my upper thighs were so exposed by my short skirt. Combine that with the plunging neckline of my blouse, and I looked exactly the way my husband wanted. Easy. I’d never usually wear something so revealing, especially when the evening air was so crisp. But my husband loved role-playing. It was something I could get on board with as long as I was allowed to use my actual first name. There was nothing creepier than him looking me in the eyes and calling me another woman’s name when my legs were spread for him. Especially now that I knew the truth.

  The high-heels on my boots clicked across the hotel’s entryway as I made my way over to the bar. There were Christmas lights and garland strung around the hotel. It was subtle and tasteful, unlike the local mall that looked like Santa's elves had thrown up Christmas cheer everywhere. God I hated Christmas now. My husband had a way of sucking the joy out of everything. I took a deep breath as I entered the bar. The ghosts of Christmases past didn't need to make an appearance tonight. There was already enough to worry about.

  I knew I was early, but I preferred getting a good vantage point and the upper hand. Tonight I’d have to immerse myself into my role a little better. I listened to the chatter around me. Apparently there was a convention going on in the hotel for some team-building exercises. I’d just be one of the many attendees. Sweet, innocent, and oh so very single. And what better team-building exercise than spending the night with a team member? It was perfect.

  I slid onto a stool at the bar and ordered sparkling water, ice, and lime in a glass that would usually be reserved for an actual gin and tonic. The bartender didn’t seem to mind my strange request. He just smiled, probably because of my low neckline, and placed the glass down in front of me. Next time I saw him, I’d have all my money back, and I could leave him a generous tip. As it was, my date tonight was the one paying for my drinks. And I had a feeling he’d be leaving a shitty tip.

  I nursed my fake drink, knowing that liquid courage would have helped. But I couldn’t let a single thing slip tonight. I had to be on my A-game. Because I was about to take the first step towards getting my life back.

  My eyes kept gravitating toward the hotel entrance. He was late. The bar was getting increasingly more crowded by the minute. And the more time that ticked by, the more nervous I got. Maybe this was a bad idea. I finished my second sparkling water and realized that I needed to use the restroom. I silently cursed and slid off the stool. Not actually drinking was endlessly boring, and now I was going to lose the element of surprise. I finished up in the bathroom as quickly as I could and walked back out.

  I saw him before he saw me. He was sitting on the other side of the bar with a leather jacket. It was definitely him. Tall, dark, and handsome. He looked just like my husband. How ironic. I smiled at my own joke.

  But my smile fell as he leaned in and whispered into the woman’s ear beside him. I felt jealousy surge through me, just like I had the last time my husband had done this in front of me. He thought he could get away with it. As if I wouldn’t confront him? I thought about the wedding and engagement rings sitting on my bedside table back at home. How would he react with me flirting with another man? Would he get as angry as me? I looked down at the counter. Probably not. And even if he still cared, he wouldn’t soon enough. That was the whole point. I ran my fingers down the condensation on my glass.

  “Why are you glaring at me?”

  I looked up. He’d walked over and was now staring at me rather accusingly. “I wasn’t.” I hadn’t been glaring at him. Had I? I took a sip of my drink.

  “You’re shutting down my game.”

  I laughed. “What game?” He wasn’t supposed to be flirting with other women tonight. I had worn this ridiculous outfit for him. He was supposed to be flirting with me and only me.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He sat down in the stool next to mine. “You really shouldn’t leave your drink unsupervised.”

  He was the one that should be worried about that tonight. Not me. “I’m a very trusting person.” I wasn’t. Not anymore.

  “I don’t know what kind of places someone like you usually hangs out, but if you’re such a trusting person, trust me…this is not the kind of bar you leave your drink unsupervised in.”

  I looked around at all the smiling faces and tasteful Christmas decorations. This bar was upscale. Classy even. What on earth was he talking about? “This place seems nice to me.”

  He shrugged and took a pull from his drink.

  “I think my company paid good money to have our workshop here.”

  “Workshop?”

  “Team-building.” I smiled. “Which is ridiculous because I loathe everyone I work with.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Devastatingly so.” I put my hand out. “I’m Ensley Hill.”

  “Noah Thompson.”

  Interesting. I wasn’t sure what kind of game he was playing tonight. But he sure as hell didn’t know mine.

  Instead of shaking my hand, he grabbed it and kissed my knuckles. His fingers trailed up the inside of my wrist and I shivered.

  Well, at least we were on the same page there. I had him where I wanted him. Now I just needed to escalate things before the bar got even more crowded. My husband loved when I was forward during these sessions. Hopefully tonight would be no different.

  “I have to wonder,” I said, dropping his hand and leaning closer to him, “if this is a bar filled with such heathens, why on earth are you here?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’m one of them.” His eyes twinkled like it was the best pickup line ever.

  News flash. It wasn’t. And this wasn’t a dingy bar in the middle of the city. We were in the suburbs for goodness sake. Here I was thinking I was bad at role-playing. But he took the crown. “Does that line always work? You hang out here trying to pick up women from these conventions regularly?”

&n
bsp; “Only when they’re as beautiful as you.”

  I laughed. A real, belly aching laugh. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to make me jealous or make me smile. Yes, he was gorgeous. But his game was garbage. Still, I leaned in closer. “And does that line usually work?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me, beautiful. I’ve never used it before.”

  My smile faded. When was the last time my husband had called me beautiful? The word falling from his lips twice was hard to ignore. What if my plan wasn't as flawless as I thought? Something about the way he was looking at me made me feel like it was time to abort my mission. Just because I had been hurt didn't mean I wanted to hurt him. “It’s not awful," I said.

  He laughed and called the bartender over to refill our glasses.

  When he wasn't staring at me, it was easy to remember the coldness in my husband's eyes the past few months. Even easier to remember what he'd done and had been doing for months now. He flashed me his perfect smile and all I felt now was resolve.

  My husband needed to pay for what he'd done. I had a plan and I wasn't one for not following through. Hell, I'd married him even when I'd had cold feet. That was commitment, even if I regretted it now.

  Now all I needed was a distraction. Originally I thought I’d just knock my own glass onto the floor. But I found myself being distracted by his lips. One kiss wouldn’t hurt my plans. If anything it would make the night progress a little easier. Faster even. And I needed to be out of these stupid clothes and happily asleep in my own bed. Alone.

  I ran the side of my foot up his shin. “My company spared no expense and even got us all single rooms here. No awkward roommates.”

  “How convenient.”

  “For who?" I ran my finger along the rim of my glass. "You?”

  He put his hand on my thigh. “More along the lines of us.”

  Us. There never was and there never was going to be an us. “There are a lot of men here I could take up to my room. Prove you’re worth a night with me.”

  He cocked one of his eyebrows. “How great is a night with you?”

  I leaned forward so my lips were against his ear, like his had been against another woman’s half an hour earlier. “You’ll never forget me.”

  “Is that so?” His breath was hot in my ear. And then it traveled down my jaw line until he was staring deeply into my eyes.

  “I’ll ruin you for life.” It was a promise. And not at all a sexual one.

  His lips brushed against mine gently at first. But I wasn’t doing slow. I leaned in and kissed him hard. For a second I almost forgot to slip the pill in his drink. But only for a second. When his hands moved to my waist, I plopped the small white pill in his glass. I tried to count down from ten, knowing it would take some time for the pill to dissolve. I started to lose track when I buried my fingers in his hair around seven. And I completely lost track when his hands slid to my ass around five.

  I pulled away after far too long, completely breathless.

  “Maybe I’ll be the one that ruins you.”

  I was already ruined. Wasn’t that obvious? I downed my drink. Fortunately he did the same, because I didn’t know how I was going to convince him to finish it when I had promised him something far better upstairs.

  But I thought he’d slowly drink it. He’d downed the whole thing in two seconds flat. He’d be getting loopy any minute now, and I wasn’t strong enough to carry him out of here. “Let’s go up to my room.”

  He didn’t hesitate. He placed some bills down on the counter. A great tip considering the fact that my beverages hadn’t been alcoholic. I smiled to myself. Originally I'd thought I'd have to return after I got my money back to give the bartender a proper tip. But now there was no need. Which was probably good, because it would be rather daring to show my face again at the scene of the crime.

  “Isn’t it the other way?” he asked as I steered him toward the front doors. He started to turn around but then looked genuinely perplexed.

  Oh God, don’t fall asleep yet. “Change of plans. I’ve always wanted to have sex with a stranger in my car.”

  He nodded and followed me outside like a confused puppy. An adorable lost puppy. A puppy that was about to pass out.

  I grabbed his hand to lead him toward my car.

  His steps slowed and became wobblier.

  Not yet. I could see my car in the distance. We were so close. "Almost there," I said, but I was pretty sure he didn't hear me. He was staring up at the sky as I pulled him through the parking lot.

  A couple walked past us. I tried to keep my eyes straight ahead so they wouldn't engage. But we were in the suburbs, not the city. And with the suburbs came nosey housewives who couldn't mind their own business.

  "Is he okay?" the woman asked.

  "Fine. He just had a few too many drinks," I said with a laugh and a roll of my eyes. "I'll get him home safely."

  The woman smiled. "That better not be you tonight," she said to her husband and patted his chest.

  "We could always get a room instead," her husband said.

  This time I rolled my eyes for real as I steered my lost puppy toward my car. Almost 50 percent of marriages failed. He'd probably already been in one of those rooms with another woman. Pig.

  When we finally reached my car, my pig was practically putting all his weight on me. I pushed him against the back door, hoping he'd stay on his feet.

  "It's so beautiful," he said, his voice slurred now. "Almost as beautiful as you."

  I tried to ignore his words as I unlocked the door. Why did he keep saying stuff like that? This was supposed to be easy. Each compliment made me rethink everything. But it was too late now. "Get in the car," I said.

  "Look." He pointed to the sky instead of following my very simple directions.

  I followed his finger. The sky was ignited with stars tonight. They seemed even brighter than usual. I remembered my first date with my husband. We'd stopped just like this outside the bar in our college town. Except then we'd both been drunk. And I made the biggest mistake of my life by falling for him. Tonight I wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

  I opened the car door and practically had to shove him inside. "Put your seatbelt on."

  "You put it on," he grumbled.

  We'd never had kids. But I imagined this was how they would have behaved. I sighed and reached over him.

  He caught my arm and pulled me against his chest. "So you've always wanted it in the car? What is it...the threat of getting caught that turns you on?"

  He was practically falling asleep in front of me, his voice low and slightly slurred. But the question still sounded sexy falling from his lips.

  "Yes."

  "Hm." He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I'm tired," he said with a yawn. "Are you tired? Maybe we should take a nap first. And then I'll make all your dreams come true."

  It was too late for that. I pulled away from his touch. "That's a great idea." I finally managed to buckle him in.

  When I climbed into the driver's seat, he was staring over at me, his eyelids drooping.

  "Ensley, did you..." he laughed. "You did." He shook his head. "What did you give me?" He rested his head against the back of his seat. "Something strong," he said. "Why?" His hand dropped onto my leg like a dead weight.

  I didn't have to respond because he yawned once more and closed his eyes. I looked down at my watch. Three minutes faster than I had planned. But he was safely in my car, numb to the world. Phase one was complete.

  I wasn’t sure why, but instead of starting the car, I found myself reaching out to touch his face. His stubble was rough against my palm. I ran my thumb along the lips that had just kissed me. I thought I’d feel bad. That some sense of remorse would kick in and I’d stop this plan. But I felt nothing. Nothing.

  I'd loved my husband once. Mad, deep, all-consuming love. Maybe a part of me still did. But I'd found that hate was a much stronger emotion than love. Because I hated him so much more than I'd ever loved
him.

  I removed his hand from my thigh and started the ignition. My husband was unfaithful. I knew he'd been planning on leaving me for her soon. Or else my bank accounts wouldn’t be all zeros. But I'd caught him before he'd had a chance to escape.

  My husband had slowly ruined my life. So it only made sense that I ruined his too.

  Chapter 2

  Friday

  I kicked off my boots and quickly changed into a pair of baggy flannel pajamas that I hadn't worn in years because my husband hated them. They were in fact ridiculous...ridiculously cute. And oh so very comfortable. My husband was clearly insane for not liking them. I completed the look with a pair of pink slippers before practically skipping out of our room and down the stairs. No more satin nightgowns. Or lace anything. God I hated lace. Nothing was as itchy as lace. I imagined throwing all my lace lingerie in the fireplace and watching it go up in flames. Maybe tomorrow.

  Tonight I had a few more things to cross off my list. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket...another benefit of the flannel pajamas. There were huge pockets to store my phone, my snacks, and even my taser.

  I plopped down in my husband's favorite chair and dialed 911.

  It only took a few seconds before someone picked up. “911, what’s your emergency?” the dispatcher asked.

  “Hi, I'm not sure if it's technically an emergency yet, but..."

  “Ma’am, this line is for emergencies only…”

  “Right.” I cut her off. “Sorry, I think it's an emergency, but I've watched my fair share of crime shows on TV and I know you're not supposed to report things until someone's been missing for 24 or 48 hours, depending on the show." I sniffled, hoping she'd think I was crying.

  “Ma’am, is someone you know missing?”

  "My husband. He left for work this morning but never came home. And I called his office and they said he never showed up."

  “And what time does he usually come home?”

  “Usually around 5:30. 5:45 at the latest. I'm worried sick." I sniffled again. The action hurt because my nose wasn't in the least bit runny.

  "It's only 10 o'clock. Maybe he went out for drinks or something?"