Free Death Times Two (The V V Inn, Book 3.5) by C.J. Ellisson, Boone Brux

life but I was fairly certain Asa didn’t stray too far from the inn anyway. Not that we had a thing, as much as I might want it. Something about this guy gets me all kinds of hot and bothered. I repress a sigh at the thought of running my hands over what I’m sure is a perfectly sculpted eight pack. “All right, we should get on with this.”
    “I guess.” He ushers me out of the room and down a tunnel. After ten minutes of solid walking and mind-numbingly confusing turns he stops and points to the ceiling. “We’re here.”
    What looks like a round hatch is situated above us. “Great.” I pause and prop my hands on my hips. “You go first.”
    He gives a snort of laughter and climbs the ladder. After twisting the huge handle, Asa pushes open the hatch. I jump when screeching echoes down the corridor, certain I’m about to be attacked by another maniacal spirit.
     
     
    Chapter Eight
    Asa
     
    “Yeah, that’s not creepy or anything,” Lisa says, a slight tremor in her voice.
    “Sorry about that. Probably needs a little WD-40. Don’t worry, you’re safe.” I’m tempted to add with me on the end, but considering how much I want to grab that luscious ass of hers she might hear the lie in my words.
    I climb through the trap door, reaching down to offer the cute reaper a hand. The smell of what she bathed in taunts me, tempting me to lean in and take a deep sniff of the lingering hints of citrus.
    Sniff her? What are you, a freaking dog?
    I stifle the inner nasty voice and concentrate on getting my bearings. Once Lisa and I exit the closet, I make a beeline for the light switches. The ski chalet has been closed for the summer, just like everything else at the inn.
    Light floods the space, drawing the eye to the lavish accommodations. A long, polished wood bar for serving anything a skier might desire, hand-carved tables and chairs, and dark leather furniture studded with brass nail heads arranged in front of a fireplace large enough to roast a boar.
    “Wow,” Lisa mumbles under her breath, a hint of awe in her voice. “I can’t get over how upscale everything is. I get why the ski slopes are closed, it’s almost June—but why is the rest of the inn closed? I thought it might be because of the ghosts,” she snorts. “But clearly, you guys aren’t even aware they’re here.”
    “Due to the,” I clear my throat, “ unique nature of our primary guests, the hotel’s open season is winter.”
    Lisa turns to stare at me. “Holy cow. An Alaskan resort this fancy and remote that is open in the winter and it doesn’t cater to a dog sled race? Unreal.” She shakes her head and checks out the rest of the main room. The hand-cut wood beams soar overhead and the decor looks straight out of an elite Swiss ski lodge. Of course, all the windows are shuttered at the moment or she’d be able to see the sloping hillside, too. “I was wondering. What does a night at the inn cost?”
    “Umm…” I stammer and look away, uncomfortable with telling her exactly what this place costs. Until I received my bonus after Emiko’s hunt last winter I never would have been able to afford it. “The cheapest rate is in the main building—and it’s a lot.”
    “Yeah?” She quirks an eyebrow. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
    I glance at her quickly and drop my gaze, lowering my voice when I respond. “Five thousand a night.”
    Lisa’s face reddens and she coughs. Instinctively I reach out to touch her, but hold back at the last second. If my hand makes contact with her warm back, I’ll want to pull her into my arms again. Damn, she felt so good in the tunnels. Soft in all the right places with heat radiating off her. What I wouldn’t give for one night with her.
    Her coughing subsides, and she glares at me. “Don’t try and help me or anything. I’m good.”
    Belatedly, I realize I could have done something that didn’t require me to touch her. “Can I get you some water?” I move toward the bar, eager