Never did Leon anticipate he actually got a successful vacation. Every single one was cut short. That was one thing he despised about his job. At least he got first class plane tickets to places.

His olive skin grew sun-kissed, his features illuminated by ultraviolet rays. The government agent nursed an ice cold bottle of beer, a wedge of lime squished inside. He preferred whiskey typically, but the warm weather made him change his mind.

With his elbows against the countertop of the bar he’d stumbled across, he leant back in his seat, his unbuttoned shirt dangling on his waist. Hell, he even sniffed his armpits, debating whether or not he should just pull the shirt off altogether.

Obviously, his eyes scanned the area every once in a while. He couldn’t lie, he sometimes stared at couples that passed by — dare he even say he wished he was in their position? Maybe. Maybe.

One person sure as hell caught his eye — pretty much picture-perfect to a T, in his opinion. Perhaps his gaze lingered too long, making him curse under his breath. Damn him. Damn.

And that person glanced back. You sent a little wave and smile his way, and he did the same. He didn’t intend to wave with the hand holding his beer. And he wasn’t surprised when it fell off the counter, smashing. A hand covered his mouth, causing him to sigh. That was probably the second bottle he’d dropped after staring at someone for a second too long.