Letisha’s POV
“You have a package.”
I glanced up from my sewing machine just as Adrian entered the room with what I assumed was the package. The room was a den, but had somehow transformed itself into my new sewing room. It was currently overrun with sketching material, samples, fabric, and various patterns.
My husband was carrying a box large enough to cover half of his frame. Despite its dimensions, he seemed to be carrying it with little effort, so I concluded it wasn't so heavy.
He paused halfway into the room and looked around. Guessing he was trying to locate at least one clear surface—and knowing he wouldn’t— I hurried over and cleared a table that was cluttered with color swatches. I eyed him suspiciously as he set the box down.
“Do you plan on spending all your allowance on me?” I queried. I hadn't yet found a chance to talk to him about his spending habits.
Adrian raised a curious brow at my question. “It's not from me,” he answered.