The Taste of Home

Chapter 44

A year after The Crimson Goat began catering to both humans and chupacabras, the entire restaurant was completely packed. Although the chupacabras still had the inside to themselves, the patio welcomed both species for evenings full of friends, good food, and weekly wing-eating contests. With the restaurant booked solid for weeks on end, all of the chefs were constantly bustling through the kitchen.

Except for tonight.

Miguel and Alejandro entered The Crimson Goat with nothing but the memories they'd shared on their day off. Cooking breakfast together, watching the director's cut of Eventide while snuggling under a heap of blankets, hitting a few rounds at the batting cages.

And yet, Miguel couldn't help noticing that his Moonbeam had been distracted all day. He'd burnt the bacon, barely said a word as they'd cuddled on the couch, and nearly thrown out his shoulder after underestimating his swing, completely missing the ball.

Miguel leaned against The Crimson Goat's entryway, exchanging waves with customers. It felt so strange to be there without his apron hugging his scales and even stranger to see Alejandro biting his lip as if it was his dinner. Despite being the one to suggest spending the evening as customers for a change, Alejandro fidgeted like a mouse eying a hawk. "Are you sure you want to eat here, Moonbeam?" Miguel asked. "I don't mind making us something back home."

"Yes!" Alejandro winced as the word came out sharper than Miguel's claws. "Yes, I just have a lot on my mind. You know how mamá can get sometimes."

Miguel chuckled nervously. Now that he'd spent more time around Alejandro's family, he was all too familiar with how dangerous a wooden spoon could be. "Tried to tinker with a family recipe again?"

"Something like that," Alejandro said.

Miguel gave his hand a gentle squeeze before leading them into The Crimson Goat. Chupacabras filled the restaurant with contented thrumming and slurping, with not a single seat free. In the midst of the chaos, Miguel spotted a few members of his old pack. They didn't come often and Martha was never with them, but they lacked the leanness they'd had last year. From what Esmeralda had told him, the packless shelter they worked at was kind to them, and getting away from the Millers had eased the stiffness from their spines.

Maybe someday they'd have a territory of their own again, but even now Saguaro Pack was happier than Miguel had seen them since he was a hatchling.

Luis nodded to Miguel from behind the host stand, the aromas of fresh meat and cayenne wafting from his scales. "Do you have a reservation?"

"It should be under Miguel of Carolina Reaper Pack." His lips curled into a smile as he said his pack name, as they always did.

"A bit early, aren't you?" Luis tapped his claws against the podium. "Says here you're not supposed to arrive for another half hour."

"We sort of ran out of things to keep us busy," Alejandro said, his cheeks flushed.

That was a lie. Miguel would have been more than happy for Alejandro to keep lying against him and working on his knitting, but his Moonbeam hadn't even been able to focus on that. For the first time since Miguel had known him, he'd pricked his finger and yelped a word he never would have used in front of Mrs. Morales.

Luis winced. "Kitchen's been a hot mess tonight, but I guess we can seat you now. Might just have to wait a bit for the salsa."

"Do they need a hand in there?" Alejandro tensed beside Miguel, his muscles twitching.