It's in His Kiss Holiday Romance Collection by Mary Leo

time off to do a little celebrating of his own.
    One day he’d get out of this tight city, get away from the street noise and move out where his nearest neighbor was a goat.
    At least that was his dream, especially on days like he’d just had.
    Now his damn land phone wouldn’t stop ringing. He knew it wasn’t anything to do with work or he’d be getting the call on his cell. This had to be a very determined friend, an estranged family member who didn’t have his cell number or some kind of junk call. After three sets of rings, and no message on his machine, he finally picked up and gave whoever it was a curt “hello.”
    “‘Tis me,” a raspy voice answered.
    “Yeah, and who’s me ?”
    “What? You don’t recognize your own cousin?”
    Damn!
    It was Tommy, a relative he’d rather not recognize. The guy always meant some kind of trouble.
    “Tommy! It’s been awhile. How the hell are you?”
    “Not so good, cuz. I think I got some guy tailin’ me arse.”
    “So why are you calling me?”
    “You’re still a cop, ain’t ya? Or did you feck that up, too?”
    “What the hell does that mean?”
    His cousin’s raspy chuckle rumbled though Ronan. The man was like a recurring bad dream, popping up whenever Ronan was at his most vulnerable.
    “I hear Rourke’s gone missing again. I tried to get ‘hold of him, but ‘tis like he’s dead or turned into smoke. Nobody can pin him down.”
    “He’s not dead. Just busy.”
    Rourke was another cousin, a detective who seemed to like life better undercover, but Ronan wasn’t about to tell Tommy anything about that.
    “Feck, all you gobshites are always busy.”
    Tommy liked to think anyone who worked on the side of the law was an idiot.
    “What do you want, Tommy. It’s late and I’m beat.”
    “I be here in Chicago. Got somethin’ I gotta do tomorrow that’s gonna set me up pretty. Then tomorrow night I thought we’d go on the lash at one of them Irish Pubs in your old haunt. The Village Tap, around eight?”
    The last thing Ronan wanted to do was meet Tommy for a drink at the Village Tap, a bar he hadn’t been to in almost a year. But the guy was his cousin, and he liked to hear stories about their small village, Talamh an Óir, back in Ireland where they were all born. A town Ronan longed to return to if he ever had the chance.
    “I don’t know. That place—”
    “Cathy O’Toole will be waitin’. She says she ain’t seen your sorry arse in a while. I thought you two was gonna tie the knot? What’s up?”
    Cathy O’Toole was everything Ronan ever wanted. Unfortunately, he was everything she didn’t want. The last time he’d seen her she’d hurled her stilettos at him and told him never to come back. Those damn things could poke out an eye or kill a fella.
    They should be illegal.
    “It’s complicated.”
    “Nothin’s that complicated when it’s a garl like Cathy. I’d a’given me left nut for a night with that one, I would. Hey, I best be goin’. I’m gettin’ a funny feelin’ ‘bout this here saloon. Goin’ back to my room. Meet me straight away tomorrow night for a bit of a laugh. I won’t be takin’ no excuses. Maybe you can give a good scare to the freckin’ guy who be tailin’ me. A guy like you’s gotta be worth somethin’.”
    As much as Ronan didn’t want to meet him or Cathy, who probably hated him even more now, he knew he better agree. There was no telling if Tommy was actually being followed or not, and if he was, at least Ronan could find out why.
    “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll be there. Eight o’clock, right? And don’t keep me waiting or I’ll leave.”
    “Ah, and you’d leave a grand garl like Cathy? You must ‘ave rocks for brains, man.”
    “Just be on time.”
    “‘Tis my way.”
    They hung up and Ronan headed straight for the shower. It wasn’t bad enough he’d just made a date with a troublesome cousin, but he’d be seeing Cathy again. The one girl he couldn’t shake no matter what kind of