Avery Cahill parked her faithful Toyota beside the town green and resisted the urge to wipe her damp palms on the legs of her capris. Stupid to be nervous, she thought. It was just coffee. And a more or less blind date with a guy she’d been matched up with on Perfect Chemistry. A guy with no profile picture.
He’d said he was camera shy—which could mean…anything. Actually shy. Physically deformed. Homely. Axe murderer. Her friends hadn’t even thought she should talk to a guy not willing to put his picture up, but he’d seemed nice in their admittedly non-personal conversations. Respectful, which was something in astoundingly short supply in online dating. The things some guys thought they could get away with—insults, asking directly for booty calls, texting n***d pictures of themselves—it h
