Cardinal (Love in Los Angeles, #4)

1 THE SKY HAS GROWN DARK by the time Alex drives up to his house. Of course, this is Iceland and it’s March. It’s always dark. Tonight, though, the lights are all on, and there’s an ugly turquoise Nissan Quest in the driveway. Alex is relieved that whoever drove the thing here from the airport parked facing into the wind. The crew for Saga, the film in which he gets to play an awesome Viking anti-hero, are keeping a running tally of how many people get the doors blown off their rentals. People not from Iceland need a lot of information on how to survive Iceland. He’s glad someone warned his family about the wind. He pulls his own car up alongside the minivan and parks. Before he turns the ignition off, Paul’s silhouette appears in one of the big windows overlooking the hill. Irrationally, all Alex wants to do is sit in his car for another moment and enjoy the reality of having a family again. But Paul, and everyone else, is waiting for him. So he braces himself for the smack of cold air, gets out of the car, and picks his way up the path to the house. Paul yanks the door of the house open and pulls him into a hug right there in the doorway. Alex laughs and buries his face in his shoulder. Ali, who at seven hasn’t the manners of either of her parents — and since her father is Liam that’s saying something — attaches herself to his side. Alex tries to shuffle forward. “We’re letting the cold in,” he protests. “Where are the babies? And Liam?” Carly gets up from the couch to close the door and detach Ali from Alex’s leg. Paul isn’t letting go, which is perfectly fine with Alex, but he really does want to see his daughter. Paul finally lets go so Alex can hug Carly too. “Hi Alex,” she says, both fond and sarcastic. “Our flights were great, thanks for asking. Liam’s sleeping off the jetlag and the babies are in the playpen and no longer screaming because planes are terrible. How was work?” ***