More than anything

"You're welcome to them, of course," he says of his ties. "I could show you how to do them up." Thomas is quite adept with that, at least, both straight ties and bow ties.

He glances down at Greta, meeting her gaze briefly, but it's long enough that he feels heat creeping through him. He wets his lips and tries to hold onto a shred of his composure, but it's quickly falling apart, much like Greta's outfit. Especially if he dares to let his gaze drift lower.

Thomas clears his throat. "Ah, shall I help you out of your shirt, dear?"