The Atlantic sun hammered down on the white sands of Montego Bay, turning the shoreline into a blinding sheet of ivory. Robert wiped sweat from his brow with a crumpled napkin, his face a shade of lobster red that matched his swim trunks. He dumped a heavy cooler onto the sand with a thud.

“Finally. I thought we’d never find a spot near the water,” Robert grunted, glancing back at his family.

Maya, eighteen and perpetually unimpressed, stepped off the boardwalk, her eyes glued to her phone. She wore a neon bikini that left little to the imagination, a stark contrast to her mother. Leo, sixteen, trailed behind, carrying a surfboard he barely knew how to use, his shoulders slouching under the weight of teenage boredom. Elena stepped onto the sand, blinking against the glare. She wore a navy blue one-piece swimsuit with a high neckline and a skirted bottom that hit mid-thigh. It was the outfit of a woman who preferred the sanctuary of a kitchen to the exposure of a beach. She smoothed the fabric over her hips, feeling the oppressive heat cling to her skin.

“Do we have the umbrellas, honey?” Elena asked, her voice soft and measured.

“In the bag, El. Relax. We’re on vacation,” Robert said, already wrestling with a folding chair.

“I just want to make sure the kids have sunblock,” she replied, her eyes scanning the horizon. The beach was a cacophony of Reggae beats and shouting tourists. A few yards away, a row of private cabanas offered shade to those who could afford the premium. In one of them, a man lounged on a mahogany daybed. He was lean, his skin the color of dark espresso, muscles rippling under a thin, open linen shirt. Kofi watched the family. His gaze bypassed the teenagers and the reddening father, locking onto Elena. He saw the way she held herself—shoulders tight, a repressed elegance that screamed of suburban boredom and hidden desires. Robert dragged the kids toward the shoreline.

“Race you to the buoy, Leo!”

“You’re on, Dad!” Maya sighed and followed them, leaving Elena to organize the towels. As she bent over to spread a floral cloth across the sand, the skirt of her swimsuit rode up slightly.

“Yuh look like yuh carryin’ the weight of the world on dem pretty shoulders, woman.” Elena jumped, spinning around.

Kofi stood a few feet away, his voice a low, rhythmic rumble that vibrated in the humid air. He didn’t smile; he simply stared, his dark eyes tracing the line of her throat.

“I’m sorry?” Elena stammered, her hand flying to her chest.

“Yuh too tense,” Kofi said, stepping closer. The scent of coconut oil, salt, and a hint of pungent cannabis clung to him. “Dis a place for let go. Not for holdin’ on so tight.”

Elena felt a flush that had nothing to do with the sun. “I’m fine, thank you. I’m just ... waiting for my family.”

“Family stay in de water,” Kofi noted, glancing toward the splashing figures in the distance. “But yuh stay here. Lookin’ like a secret waitin’ to be told.”

Elena laughed, a nervous, fluttering sound. “You’re very forward.”

“Life too short for back-and-forth,” he replied. He gestured toward his cabana, where a pitcher of iced rum punch sat sweating on a side table. “Come. Get out de sun for a minute. I got shade, and I got a drink dat make yuh forget where yuh come from.”