Harriet's POV

Who would have thought that I would be scrubbing my leggings before Cain had even drifted from sleep. Saying I was caught red handed last night would have been an understatement, but from the looks of the back of my leggings, the handprint said it all. For a moment I even thought about keeping them like that, a keepsake of some sort. But the idea of me walking around Emmerdale with Cain's hand on my backside. Actually...

Never mind.

The thoughts washed away unlike the paint from the leggings, with a smile the fantasy had disappeared. But the handprint still resigned on the black pants.

It was a shame they were my favourite pair.

I laugh it of silently and throw them into bin, a crumpled bundle of clothing but a memory that would stay with me forever.

Cains POV

To say I wasn't a morning person was most definitely an understatement. After a nights sleep I was comfortable, I never wanted to get up and move and neither did she, usually. I reached out my arm behind me to feel for her presence only to be met by empty sheets. I looked over to the alarm clock, it read 6.48am. It wasn't like her, to be up so early. Especially if she didn't have work. I ventured downstairs so I could investigate her whereabouts. As I reached the door I saw her smiling to herself. I loved it when I caught her in these little moments, when she thought nobody was watching. When she was completely herself. I decide to surprise her, I'd done a lot of that recently. I walk over and wrap my arms around her waist.

"Hey you." I say as she snuggles backwards into my arms, accepting my embrace.

"Hey." She replied smiling, I couldn't see her face but I could feel her beaming.

"What are you doing up so early?" I ask, kissing her cheek as I move her hair over to behind her ear.

"I couldn't sleep." She told me, sighing as she relaxed even more into my arms.

"So what have you been doing, you know - to pass the time?" I asked whispering into her ear.

"Oh you know, just throwing out my clothes." She laughed, gesturing towards the bin.

"Whys that?" I asked, moving from behind her and taking the black leggings out of the bin.

"Have a look." She said, her arms folded.

I held her leggings up to investigate. It was then I remembered the rather heated events that had occurred the night before. The paint. The rush. Her. I couldn't help myself. Her backside was one of my favourite things about her, how could I resist marking my territory with a huge red hand print.

"That wasn't me." I lie, laughing at the sight I saw before me.

"Yeah, okay then." She says taking the leggings and putting them back into the bin.

"Don't throw them out." I say, picking them back up.

"You know I was going to keep them as a memento." She tells me, winking as she walks past me into the living room.

"Just wear them like normal." I tease, passing her on the sofa and standing up against the wall, throwing the leggings in her direction.

"Yeah right." She scoffs, hurling the leggings back at me.

"I dare you." I laugh, knowing she doesn't have the bottle for it.

"What's in it for me?" That question lit a fire inside me. She was a big secret that just kept unraveling.

"I'll do anything you want." I reply, wanting her to walk into the pub, my handprint on her backside.

"You're on." She sexily smirks, not knowing what she had just started.