"Suit yourself," Gus cracked a beer for himself. It wasn't the best post-workout beverage, but like he'd said before - he had to live a little. Besides, he didn't think he'd be able to handle a baking Masterclass unless he had some beers in him.
"If you're hungry, I can offer cold meat sandwiches and cereal," he said, "Wasn't planning on hosting a Die Hard baking party, so I hope you'll forgive my poor hostmanship."
If that was even a word.
"So, what first?" he asked her, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head at the assorted items on the counter. He was betting this would either be a complete disaster (thanks to his lack of ability) or the best damned cake he'd ever eaten (thanks in large part to Lucy), "Should I pop the movie in, or should we save that for when the cake is baking?"