Finding Chris Evans: The 9-1-1 Edition

Finding Chris Evans:
The 9-1-1 Edition

By Erin Nicholas

Finding Chris Evans:
The 9-1-1 Edition

Chris Evans, aka Captain America to his co-workers, knows what he wants: to lead the best EMT crew around, save lives…and have everything done
his
way. He’s learned firsthand what can happen when he’s not hyper vigilant, so running the show has become his superpower.

If only he could manage Brittney McNemara quite so well. She’s the best EMT he knows—and the most exasperating woman on the planet. Where Chris is serious, Britt is scattered. Where Chris is cautious, Britt is carefree. Where Chris is by-the-book, Britt is rebellious. Despite their intense attraction, they’d never work as a couple.

Or could they?

When Britt gets hurt on the job and temporarily loses use of her thumb, she needs someone to be her left-hand man. Chris, ever the hero, volunteers. Little does he know that Britt’s passion for fun masks a need to care for others that rivals his own. And that now the woman who’s been driving him crazy at work is about to drive him even crazier—in her kitchen, in her bedroom, and on a paint ball field.

Forget the Friend Zone. Chris is about to enter the Fun Zone. Because sometimes even a superhero can’t help but fall in love.

The Finding Chris Evans Series

In a small town in northern Minnesota, Ellie Mittelstadt goes to a psychic where she receives this prediction: if she finds a man named Chris Evans, true love will follow...

Only one problem: Even in the tiny town of Haralson, Minnesota, there are six Chris Evanses!

• A firefighter who's smokin' hot...
  
• A reality TV star about to get the surprise of his life...
  
• An EMT with emergency-level sex appeal...
  
• A bad-boy royal on the run...
  
• A smoldering rock star ready to drop the mic...
  
• A doctor with a heart of gold...
  

What follows are six delightfully romantic tales that start with Ellie meeting each new Chris Evans. But while she doesn't find true love (yet!), her meeting sets off a chain of events that leads the Chris Evans in each story to fall in love with a heroine all his own. Then finally, in the sixth tale, Ellie's psychic prediction comes true in a charmingly perfect and heartwarming way. Because true love never fails!

Now's your chance to fall in love with Chris Evans, too--six different times! Featuring NYT and USA Bestselling authors
Erin Nicholas
,
Jennifer Bernard
and
Erin McCarthy
, and award-winning authors
Lizzie Shane
,
Jennifer Chance
and
Elizabeth Bemis
, the Finding Chris Evans series debuts in October, 2016.

Finding Chris Evans: the 9-1-1 Edition

Copyright 2016 by Erin Nicholas

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book, with the exception of brief quotations for book reviews or critical articles, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Digital Edition
ISBN: 978-0-9973662-4-2
Editor: Lindsey Faber
Cover artist: Elizabeth Bemis
Digital formatting: Elizabeth Bemis

Read the Prequel!

In case you haven't read the free prequel, we've included it in the back of this book!

Click to read it now!

Chapter One

“Double shot espresso for Captain America!” Joe, the smartass barista who thought he was hilarious, looked around. “Cap! Your coffee’s up!”

Chris was standing right in front of him.

He rolled his eyes as he reached for his cup, consciously
not
responding or reacting to the Captain America thing. He could have told them his name was Tarzan, or Barack Obama. He could have begged them to write Fluffy the Flying Pony on his cup. No one would ever call him anything but Captain America at this coffee shop. He’d been coming here regularly for the past six years because it was two blocks from the hospital. When he’d first come in to feed his caffeine addiction, everything had been fine; everything had been great, even. Then the actor, Chris Evans, had appeared as the First Avenger the same week he, Chris Evans, the EMT, had pulled three kids from a burning car.

The only people who loved to mess with him more than the baristas were the guys he worked with. The Captain America nickname had been inevitable.

He gave Joe a big smile to show he wasn’t annoyed—and put a twenty-five-cent tip in the tip jar so that Joe knew he definitely was annoyed—then turned from the counter…and nearly ran over the woman behind him.

She smiled up at him, almost shyly. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

She was cute. She had long blonde hair and bright blue eyes and a sweet smile. She was also blushing slightly. Was she nervous about something? Chris felt the kiss-my-ass smile he’d given Joe morph into a real one, hoping to put her at ease.

She took a deep breath, as if fortifying herself, and stuck out her hand. “I’m Ellie.”

This coffee run was looking up. He took her hand noticing the only jewelry she wore were the multicolored friendship bracelets on her wrist. He liked that. Low maintenance. No crazy fake fingernails or gaudy rings. Or wedding rings. “I’m Chris.”

“Evans, right?”

Long legs, silky blonde hair, easy smile when she relaxed a little. So the Captain America thing wasn’t always annoying after all. “You got it.”

“I’ve been, uh… I was looking for you,” she said. “The lady in the ER said you’d be here.”

She’d been looking for him. Interesting. “Have we met?” he asked.

Ellie shook her head. “No.” Then she bit her lip as if hesitant to continue. “I looked you up and found out that one of you was an EMT and so thought that going up to the hospital would be the easiest way of introducing myself.” She frowned as she finished. “That sounds weird doesn’t it?”

It did, indeed. “You were looking for an EMT?” A buddy of his had told him how there were women who would bring cookies and stuff to the local fire station in the hopes of hooking up with a firefighter. Maybe this was something like that.

“No, I was looking for a Chris Evans.” She smiled and then frowned. “That definitely sounds weird. Maybe we could…” She looked around. “Um, would you…like a…” Her gaze flickered to his coffee cup and then to the bakery case, “…a muffin?”

It was strange maybe, but what the hell? He had another twenty minutes before he had to be back on duty and had to admit he was a little curious about Ellie looking for a Chris Evans. “Sure, I could go for a muffin.”

She bought two and they found a table near the door. It was one of those tiny round things where he barely fit, but he stretched his legs out to the side and settled back, trying to look casual.

“Here you go.” Ellie pushed a plate and muffin across the table toward him.

She’d chosen apple cinnamon for him. That was a good sign. If you had to have a muffin, it should be apple-cinnamon, blueberry or bran. No fillings involved, no non-fruit additions and definitely no frosting of any kind.

And Ellie had chosen blueberry. She’d also ordered a French roast with only a dollop of good old half-and-half. Also a good sign. If this was a pickup. Which he wasn’t sure that it was. Though he didn’t really know what this was.

Still, he liked to know early on if a woman was a fancy-pastry- and- froofy-coffee-drink woman. Those women were high maintenance. At least Ellie knew that bologna sandwiches and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups were not breakfast food. Unlike Britt. She ate the weirdest stuff. And it was all crap. Yet she was trim and tight and…

Chris gritted his teeth and forced himself to concentrate on the blonde across the table.
For fuck’s sake, there’s a beautiful woman
right here
. Do not think about Britt.

But this was what had been happening repeatedly over the past six months. He’d try to pay attention to another woman, he’d try to work up some excitement about going out with someone, and in the middle of the date his thoughts would wander to Brittney McNemara. The most infuriating woman he knew.

Ellie gave him a smile as she lifted her cup and he asked, “So you were looking for someone named Chris Evans?”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes.”

“For any particular reason? Or does it have to do with the actor?”

She laughed at that, and Chris noted she had a nice laugh. That was another mark in the pro column. Provided she didn’t turn out to be crazy, of course.

“No, not the actor,” she said. “But honestly, the reason will sound strange.”

“You found something with that name on it and wanted to return it to its rightful owner?” he guessed.

She shook her head. “No. That would be less strange than this.”

He was intrigued. “You met a Chris Evans briefly in an airport several years ago, had a connection, and are now trying to track him down again?”

Ellie smiled. “Creative. And, also less strange than this, I think.”

He couldn’t help it—he was kind of enjoying this. “You came upon a dying man and he motioned you close and whispered two words to you—Chris. And Evans. And you’re trying to solve the mystery of his murder with only that to go on.”

She outright laughed at that. “No. You must read a lot.”

“I see a lot of movies,” he admitted with a grin. “So, is that better than whatever actually has you trying to find a guy just because his name is Chris Evans?”

She sipped her coffee again, regarding him over the edge of her cup. After she’d swallowed she said, “Based on those imaginative guesses, maybe you won’t be as put off by the truth.”

Chris leaned in, his elbows on the table. “Well, you know I have to hear it now.”

He was two seconds away from finding out if she was cuckoo. If not, he would ask her out on a real date. He needed to go on a real date. And this woman was more interesting than any he’d met in a long time. Maybe she could get his mind off of Britt.

He ignored the voice in the back of his head that said
yeah, right
.

Ellie took another deep breath and her gaze dropped to the coffee cup in front of her. She traced her thumb along the rim as she took a deep breath and said, “I went to a fortune teller at the apple festival and she told me that I’d find true love with a man named Chris Evans.”

Well, he hadn’t been expecting a fortune teller. Chris sat back in his chair and thought about that. A prediction about true love with a guy named Chris Evans. Okay, that wasn’t that much weirder than his murder mystery idea, he supposed.

“And now you’re searching out guys named Chris Evans,” he said.

Ellie nodded, still not making eye contact.

“Like every Chris Evans in the whole world?” he asked.

She smiled and looked up. “I’ve narrowed it down to this area and guys around my age.”

So the question was, did he want to take her out knowing that a fortune teller had possibly predicted they would fall in love?

“And the others haven’t been love at first sight?” Chris asked.

“You’re the first.”

“I’m your first Chris Evans’ encounter?” he asked with a grin. “I’m honored.”

She laughed. “Yeah, well, I guess I thought I’d see you and—”

Suddenly the door to the café burst open behind him. He saw Ellie’s eyes widen in the split second before he swung around.

An older man stumbled across the threshold. His ratty T-shirt had been white at one point, but was now stained with sweat and possibly coffee. Or whiskey. Or both. But it was the streaks of blood down the front that brought Chris out of his seat.

“Help!” the man called out as he held a hand to his nose and his ribs. He didn’t have enough hands to stem the blood flow from the gash on his forehead too.

Chris grabbed him as he lurched forward and put him on the chair he had just vacated. “Sir, what happened?”

“Basard go’ me wid a beer boddle,” the guy slurred.

Chris caught a strong whiff of alcohol. The guy was likely slurring from his incredibly high blood-alcohol level rather than a head injury, but Chris needed to check him out. Chris grabbed the napkins from the table and shook the muffin crumbs to the floor before pressing them against the cut on the man’s head.

The man was what Chris would have labeled “grizzled”. His clothes hung on his thin frame as if he’d lost a lot of weight, or as if the clothes had been donated to him. His hair hadn’t been washed or trimmed in a long time and he hadn’t shaved in as long.

Chris looked around, his gaze landing on Ellie. “Call 9-1-1,” he told her.

She nodded, her eyes wide as she fumbled for her phone.

“Already there,” the man said, still holding his nose.